The Navigator
by Vronsurd
Summary: Jaune wasn't born an Arc and can't remember his past. All that remains are visions of fire, screams, and steel. Adopted, loved, and given a new family, Jaune takes to being an Arc like a fish into water. But the past has a habit of repeating itself. When his second family is endangered, he must rely on a crew who act like a dysfunctional family to rescue them. (JaunexMystery)
1. Chapter 1

**Sup.**

 **So, this was supposed to come out Thursday. But on Thursday I had this big epiphany for this series, so I rewrote a lot of my story outline—including the parts of the outline concerning this initial chapter. Thus, I had a lot of rewriting to do for this chapter in specific. Then it got lengthened…**

 **Then I got into a fist-fight over it with a beta-reader. And then I rewrote it all again. Essentially, making a good first chapter—and making sure you have an iron premise for the rest of the story—is hell on earth.**

 **This is my third long chapter fic. It'll update triweekly, on Thursdays. Like the others. With this addition, I'll have more time to structure each chapter for each fic so I think that will result in an overall quality increase for all my big fics.**

 **So that's great.**

 **This is an adventure AU that sort of centers on Jaune. He's definitely the one who's going to receive the most attention, but it's still going to have some emphasis on the other characters outside of boy-wonder.**

 **It's gonna be a helluva lot lighter than TSOV. And it's also set in an alternate universe. Should be fun. If you'd rather read stuff that takes place on Remnant proper—well you could check out my other fics.**

 **I apologize to everyone who ever messaged me annoyed about my non-linear first chapters. I can't help it. It's such a good way to start en media res. I can dive right into the action and then retroactively explain it.**

 **Makes the beginning more interesting—and it lends some weight to the backstory right from the start.**

 **Sigh...why am I even bother to explain. All I'll get is more storyline rewrite requests in my inbox.**

 **Ha.**

 **Also, there is a second reason this chapter is late and that's** **because it turned out to be a monstrosity nearly 35,000 words long so I've broke it into three parts. So technically all the information that was supposed to be in this story's first chapter is going to be spread out over three... So try to reserve judgement for a bit. Unless you judge that you love it-in that case judge away.**

 **Without further ado...**

 **The Navigator Chapter 1**

 _Present Day_

Jaune sputtered and coughed, expelling water from his lungs. He also blinked rapidly, trying to relieve his irritated eyes.

Water.

He'd never wanted something more.

Ironic really.

Considering he was surrounded by the stuff.

His throat and mouth burned like a desert and tasted like sand.

Perhaps the real irony here was that a swallow of ocean-water would only make him thirstier, despite how much relief the cool liquid provided against his sun-beaten skin.

Jaune surveyed the horizon. There wasn't a boat or island in sight. He looked up. Clouds, ominous ones, were forming above him. More threatened to blow in from the east.

So, he wasn't imagining it.

The sea was getting rougher. The swells were getting bigger.

A storm was coming.

Another one.

He had felt the first sign a while back. The wind had picked up. It had changed directions too. He had hoped that it was just residue from last night's typhoon.

No such luck.

Jaune spotted another large swell heading for him. This time he closed his mouth and eyes. For the most part, he rode out the wave, though he still dipped a foot or two underwater.

Yeah, the swells were getting bigger, fast.

Was he in for another night like the last?

Jaune's grip on his lifeline, a fractured wooden door, tightened. His blistered and pruned fingers strained against its solid frame.

Was this it?

Was this where he died? Was this _how_ he died?

He had asked himself the same question the previous night, as he was tossed by waves and pelted by rain.

He'd asked himself over and over throughout the storm.

There were times when he wanted to answer back, 'yes.' There were times when he wanted nothing more than to just let it all end. It was a bad thought, but unavoidable. How could he not consider letting himself slip into the depths? How could he not consider breathing his last?

Surviving in the sea, without a boat, food, or drinkable water was the crème de la crème of bullshit.

He would know. It wasn't his first time doing it.

There were a few aspects of bobbing around in deep water that irritated him—aside from imminent death that was.

First, most of his body was underwater, hidden from the scorching sun—except for his face, home to his most sensitive skin. So, he had sunburn—but only where it hurt the most.

Second, he would occasionally see fish. Swimming beneath him… Jumping out of the water… At first, Jaune had imagined eating one—but he had no way to catch it. And now he was so thirsty that the thought of swallowing—anything really—made him physically ill.

Third, was the water—sloshing all around him. Its salty tasted mocked his parched tongue.

And, finally, the worst part was the waiting. There were only three possible outcomes to Jaune's current predicament. He would happen upon land. Or he would happen upon a ship. Or he would die.

There wasn't much he could _do_ to change his fate.

Currents would take him where they would. Storms and the sun would work on his will. Waves would beat his body. And, eventually, he'd come across salvation or sink to the bottom of the sea.

The sheer pain of waiting to see which would happen was enough to make him let go. Especially since he had a pretty good idea of the odds. He was already in open waters, and given the direction he was heading...

Well, the chances of him running into a ship were becoming infinitely less likely with every bob.

Jaune released the driftwood with his left hand, shaking out his cramping forearm. He regripped and repeated the process with his right.

He was so tired...

Jaune wondered what would happen if he closed his eyes and drifted off. Would he wake up drowning? In immense pain?

Or would he just not wake up at all?

That didn't seem so bad, all things considered. Of course, no way it would that peaceful a passing. Jaune had come close to drowning before—a life at sea meant near-death by drowning was—well it was the most common form of near-death experience.

It wasn't a particularly pleasant way to die. At least, the first half of it wasn't. The fighting, sputtering, burning...

Although, he had heard from those who had gotten past that—actually faded before being resuscitated—that it wasn't half so bad in the end. Like drifting off to sleep.

So, would he fall asleep? Wake up for a brief instant of pain? And then drift back to sleep?

That didn't sound so bad. But he couldn't die here.

It simply wasn't an option.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw _their_ faces from over the years…

Smiling... Happy... Loving...

And then he remembered their faces yesterday.

Terrified... Panicked... Stricken...

Jaune gnashed his teeth, jaw locked.

No, he couldn't die. Not now. Not quite yet.

Not when those... _scum_ had taken his family.

Even more than all the salt in the sea…

Jaune fixed his grip as thunder echoed in the distanced. He closed his eyes as a particularly big swell surged over him.

It was going to be a rough night.

But he was going to survive it. He had to no choice in the matter.

*l*l*

 _Eight Years Before the Present_

Ellie Arc adjusted the focus of her spyglass.

What was that?

There was a tuft of white. And an oaky sort of brown too.

But she still couldn't quite make it out…

Ellie continued to twist the view-finder until the distant spectacle came into focus. She nearly dropped her scope when she realized what she was looking at.

"Dad!" she shouted. Ellie took off down the ship, bare feet slapping against the deck. She ducked under a package being hoisted by Fernando and Pallo.

They yelled at her in their native tongue. Same as yesterday, she had no idea what either one of them were saying. She brushed underneath some clothes dangling from a line stretching from the ship's mast to the outer railing.

She nearly ran into Miss Roselyn. She decided to apologize later, despite the woman's squeal of displeasure. She had another near collision with an Aggie, a boy her age who kept to himself.

She apologized to him in passing.

He shrugged and watched her hurry away.

"Dad!" Ellie shouted again, taking the stairs two at a time. She arrived on the platform overlooking the deck, breathing heavily. She rested her hands on her knees as she sucked in oxygen.

"Ell-bell?" said Mathias Arc, turning towards his daughter but keeping a firm grip on the wooden wheel before him. His right hand drifted down to his sheathed broadsword.

Made sense, the last time Ellie had gone charging up to him this excitedly, spyglass in hand, she had spotted a ship pursuing them from the crows-nest—a perch she was forbidden from visiting, not that she would let something like that stop her.

"Dad! There's someone in the water!"

Mathias went rigid. "Who went overboard!?"

"No!" Ellie shook her head vigorously. "No one went overboard. Someone's stranded out there. Their ship must have sunk."

"Oliver," Mathias motioned to his first-mate, who was standing a few feet back, map in hand. "Take the wheel."

Oliver obeyed immediately.

Mathias took Ellie's small spyglass. "Point them out to me." He bent to her level and followed her pointed finger.

"Do you see him?" Ellie squinted. She could just barely see the pinprick in the distance.

Mathias was silent for a moment, focused. Then he barked, "Oliver, hard to port."

"Hard to port!" Oliver shouted, giving those on the deck a chance to find their footing before the ship began to turn.

"Do you see him?" asked Ellie.

"I see him," confirmed Mathias. "Good catch Ell-Bell."

Ellie grinned when she felt her father's fingers in her hair. He ruffled her nest the way he always did, affectionately.

"If it's just a dead guy can I keep anything we find?"

Mathias stared down at his daughter thoughtfully. "What if he doesn't have anything you want?"

Ellie shrugged. "Just keeping my ship sealed. In case he's got gold or a map or something. Finders keepers. And I found him."

Mathias grinned. "You're sounding like a pirate there, Ell-Bell."

"Ar!" agreed Ellie, threatening her father with a hooked finger.

Mathias raised his hands in surrender. "Can't argue with violence. If we find a corpse. It's all yours."

Ellie smiled, satisfied with her father's response.

She wasn't hoping for a corpse or anything. If they could save someone that would be great too. But a treasure map, wouldn't be bad either.

*l*l*

 _Still Eight Years Before the Present_

He awoke slowly, gradually gaining awareness before his eyes opened.

His head throbbed, and his body ached. And his skin felt…sensitive, as if he was one big wound and air was brandy or rum or whatever his mother put on his cuts.

His mother…?

He tried to picture her.

He had one.

A mother that is.

Everyone had one.

So why couldn't he remember his mother's face? Why couldn't he remember her name? There were some sensations in his memory. A feather touch on his cheeks…pursed lips on his brow…a comb running through his morning locks…a voice humming softly.

Why couldn't he…?

She used to wash his hair. She would sing a song while she lathered him. It had his name in it...

But what was his name?

The boy strained to remember. He recalled his mother's voice, calling after him, cooing...

But what was his name?

What...was...?

Since his memory wasn't answering any questions he decided to open his eyes.

He was immediately assaulted with a pair of curious blue eyes, looming directly over him. "He's awake dad!"

"Give him some space Ell-Bell," said a distinctly masculine voice. "We don't want to overwhelm him."

When the blue-eyed girl rocked back the boy got a better look at the rest of her face. She was pretty, almost angelic, with golden hair, childish cheeks, and an infectious smile.

The man beside her was probably her father. Although, he could have been her much older brother too. They were definitely family though. They both had the same gold-spun hair and the same sky-blue eyes. And there was something in their faces that looked the same too—their noses maybe?

They were both seated in wooden chairs.

"Here," said the man. He placed a hand beneath the boy's back, helping him sit up. He then produced a large cup.

The boy drank the water greedily. It burned all the way down.

But that didn't matter.

The boy gasped for air for a moment and then he dove back into his drink. He didn't stop until the cup was empty, and his stomach was beginning to feel upset.

The man lifted a single eyebrow at the emptied cup. "Thirsty I see."

The boy nodded and prepared himself to respond verbally. His thoughts were cut off by wet dabbing sensation on the left side of his forehead.

The boy jerked back and turned, entirely unaware that there was another person in the room with him.

She was perched on the edge of his bed, bearing a gentle smile and gentler eyes. The woman peered down at him with barely restrained interest. She had the same curious expression on her face as the girl, but more...tempered.

The boy's eyes drifted upwards. Atop her head rested two furry appendages, animal ears. The boy couldn't tell what kind of animal they could be attributed to...

But if the way they were twitching and perking was to be believed...they were a little more than accessories.

He must have stared at her ears for a little too long because the woman suddenly drew a little closer. "Do you want to touch them?"

If he was being honest, the boy sort of did. But something in his mind screamed at him that such a thing would be inappropriate. It was a vague and amorphous memory—without shape or form. But still, the overwhelming sense of it was, one did not simply touch a Faunus person's animal trait.

The boy's voice rasped as he replied to the woman. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to stare. And I don't want to touch them b-because..." His voice broke. He coughed a bit and then continued. "...that would be rude."

The woman looked a little annoyed at his response. Her brows furrowed a bit and her eyes narrowed. "I didn't ask if it was rude to touch my ears. I asked if you wanted to." The woman drew closer. "Here, touch them. I insist, touch them."

The boy leaned away from the persistent woman, wide eyed.

"Honey," began the man on his right, "let's calm down a bit. Maybe get the kid's name before we add him to the litter?"

The boy watched the Faunus retreat. But she didn't move much, nor did she look abashed—at all. "Sorry," she said.

It was obvious she wasn't really.

"What's your name kid?" asked the man.

Right, his name. He hadn't been able to remember that earlier had he? Jaune searched the murky gray concealing his memories as best he could.

Name...name...name...

The man filled the silence in the meanwhile. "I'm Mathias Arc. This is my daughter, Ellie. And," he motioned towards the Faunus across from them. "This is my wife Willow. There are six more girls too..."

"Six more wives?" asked the boy distractedly.

Mathias laughed, but sobered a little under his wife's eyes. "No, six more daughters."

"Oh," said the boy, still focused on remembering his name. It was right there, at the forefront of his memory, he just had to grab hold of it. He just had to make it his.

"My name is..." The boy trailed off. He restarted a moment later. "My name is...Jaune."

"John?" replied Mathias.

" _Ja-une,_ " corrected the boy, gaining confidence.

He had remembered his name. That was a start.

"What's your last name?"

Jaune refocused himself on his memories. It was in there, just like his first name. If he could just blow the mist obscuring his memories...

He tried to penetrate the gray barrier—but to no avail.

For two or three minutes he sat in silence. Three expectant stares locked onto him. Finally, he spoke, in a whisper, "I can't remember."

"What did he say!?", shouted a feminine voice from outside the room. "Did he say his last name is December?"

For the first time, Jaune took stock of his surroundings, aside from the three people who surrounded him. He was in a fairly bare wooden room. It wasn't spacious, but it wasn't too tight either. The area was illuminated by two swinging lanterns, hung from hooks in the ceiling.

Opposite Jaune stood a closed wooden door, behind which was the owner of the girly voice.

"He sounds alright to me," chimed a new voice, again, from behind the door. "So, can we come in now?"

"No," Ellie yelled back. "There's too many of you! Just go away!"

The first voice spoke up again. "Who died and put you in charge Ellie?"

"Girls," began Mathias. "How about we—"

Ellie interrupted him. "No one had to die. I'm just smarter than you Crystal!"

"You are dead when you come out of there Ellie. D-E—"

"Don't forget the A," interrupted Ellie.

"I wasn't going to forget the A," screamed Crystal.

"Sure, you weren't," Ellie rolled her eyes at Jaune.

She was visibly pleased when she spotted him suppressing a smile.

"Girls," said Willow. Unlike Mathias, she was not interrupted. "Go clean your quarters. All of you. Except Cece. She can come in."

The door reverberated with the girl's collection of moans and whines.

Ellie looked...smug.

"Why is Cece allowed in?"

Jaune could hear the pout in Crystal's voice. A second later, he saw it on her face, when the door opened. Six girls stared at him intensely from beyond the doorway. Crystal was the one at the front, Jaune could tell from how twisted up her lips were. That was definitely the girl whose voice he had just heard. The girl was wearing, what had to be, the most exaggerated pout of all time.

The girl's Faunus trait added to the effectiveness of her pout. Crystal had inherited her mother's ears, but the colors did not match. One was covered in blond fur, the other brown.

One other girl had animal ears as well. She, and the girl next to her with identical features, minus the ears, both looked the least interested. The others were the same as Ellie, no noticeable Faunus traits.

Or...wait.

Jaune watched the smallest girl shuffle inside the room, blanket clutched to her chest. She looked to be about three or four years old. A bushy tail trailed lazily behind her.

So, three girls with obvious Faunus traits—four without.

"Close the door behind you Cece,"

"Cece don—"

Crystal's plea was cut off by the door closing.

"Go clean your quarters!" shouted Willow through the closed doors.

Several groans and "yes ma'ams" were the response.

Willow turned her attention to Cece, her youngest—or so Jaune assumed—daughter. "You know why you're here don't you?"

Cece nodded, raising her arms. Willow snatched her off the ground. "Mama, needs her cuddles!"

Jaune watched Willow nuzzle her daughter, stroking the girl's tail while humming. Cece relaxed into her Willow's ministrations, closing her eyes and resting her head on her mother's chest.

"Um." Jaune cleared his throat. "Who are you guys?" Jaune winced at the way the question sounded.

Mathias, conversely, did not seem at all bothered by his bluntness. "Well, we're the Arcs—and you're onboard _The_ _Merchant's Boon._ Ellie here spotted you barely staying above water a day ago. We managed to fish you out just after you slipped under. Your lungs were full of water but my wife..." Mathias nodded towards the woman currently enthralled with her daughter, "managed to get you breathing again."

"Oh," said Jaune. What was he supposed to say to the people who saved his life? "Thanks." That felt light—but he wasn't sure what to add.

"You slept nearly 24 hours," continued Mathias. "Ell-Bell kept an eye on you for most of that time. She's the one who called us when you started muttering and it looked like you might wake up. All the girls have been in here at some point—and some of the other children as well, you've been quite a tourist attraction."

Jaune, again, wasn't sure how to reply. "Oh, that's funny." He tried again, struggling to avoid sounding like a moron. He wasn't—he knew that—but he also wasn't sure what to say or ask. He finally settled on asking, "so, you guys are merchants?"

"She is," replied Mathias, pointing at his wife. "I'm a sailor, captain of the ship actually. The _The Merchant's Boon_ is a guild ship. So, there are several merchant families aboard—along with the crew."

"I see," said Jaune. He turned to Willow. "so, what do you sell?"

Willow looked up from the fluffy tail she had buried her face in. "textiles, silk, satin, felt...but..." Her voice went low. "Never fur."

Ah. No fur. That made sense. All things considered.

He watched the woman resume stroking her daughter's tail.

"I think you mean, 'no fur, unless you smell a profit'," said Mathias. "Then fur is back on the table, as are skinning knives, leather, and god knows what else."

Willow grinned. It wasn't the sort of smile one would expect from her appearance. She had some sharp canine teeth. "Hey, I've got a family to feed."

"And you do a great job of it," replied Mathias with an equally devious yet slightly less feral smile.

"Damn right I do."

Jaune glanced between the two adults. Something about their interaction...

The feeling the two of them gave off...

It felt familiar. Very familiar.

But why?

"Captain!"

Jaune was pulled from his thoughts by a deep shout. He heard a man's heavey tread approaching and then several loud knocks on the door.

"Captain!"

"What is it Oliver?" asked Mathias.

"Pirates!"

Mathias was at the door in an instant. He threw it open. A man dressed in ratty pants that stopped at his calves and a white buttoned shirt that looked significantly nicer stood at attention.

Jaune watched the two of them, mind racing.

Pirates.

He had some faint notion that, at some point, in his past, he had wanted to be a pirate.

That he had wanted to sail the seven seas searching for fame, treasure, and adventure. He would be a rogue, a forget-me-not, a bandit of the sea.

But that didn't feel right now.

For some reason the word, 'pirate' resonated with him in an entirely different fashion. It was something in his memories, obscured behind that misty veil.

Jaune clawed at those memories, attempting to unearth them.

Meanwhile, Mathias question his fellow crew-member. "How close?"

"Two hours if we stay on route, three if we focus on fleeing."

"That much lighter huh...?"

"Probably a quarter of our bulk with just as much sail."

Mathias nodded. "Sound the alarm. Defensive prep. All fighters armed. Non-fighters in the quarters below. Keep our course as is. No need to screw up our time-tables. Let's also..."

Mathias's voice faded as the two men walked away from the room.

Jaune glanced from Ellie to Willow uncertainly. Neither seemed very concerned by the threat of pirates.

 _Pirates_.

It struck Jaune without warning. A downpour of images, sensations, and sounds.

There were screams. There was fire. There was the sound of wood cracking, splintering, and collapsing. There was the glint of blades surrounded by flickering flames. There was the blood dripping through the decks floorboards, which smelled like copper and gunpowder. There were the gurgling gasps of the deceased as they gave up their ghosts. There was the smoke, thick and viscous. Not enough to obscure the nightmare, but enough to rob the lungs of air. There was also the cackling. The incessant laughter as they danced through the carnage.

Last was a wide mouthed smile, stretched like a drum, dirty teeth surrounded by gold, all tinged a bloody red.

Before Jaune could process what he had seen, he screamed.

He flailed.

He kicked.

He sobbed.

And he did not know why.

What were these flashes? What were these feelings? Was it...memory? Had these things happened to him? Had he seen them?

Or had he just made it up?

And why was he crying?

Why were grief, fear, and rage pulsing through him in equal measures? Why were his fists clenched so tight his fingernails were drawing blood? Why were his eyes so watery that he'd lost the ability to see? Why was his body trembling, limbs shaking outside of control?

Why?

Vaguely, as if he were underwater, he could hear his name being called.

Jaune tried his best to reply. To stop screaming. To take a breath.

But he was no longer within his own body.

Or perhaps he was. Perhaps he was _too_ inside of his own body.

It was as if he was trapped in some deep sunken place—a prison in his own mind. His eyes were working, they should have been. He could see the blurry waterlogged world outside of him.

Yet...it didn't make sense. There was a disconnect between those images and the mind that was supposed to interpret them.

His shaking grew worse, arms now flailing about wildly.

Jaune could feel himself tossing his arms about like a madman—but he had no power to stop it.

What was happening to him?

His screaming stopped for an instant. Just long enough for him to suck in a deep breath and then he resumed.

Two sets of hands were suddenly on his arms. Holding him down. His left arm was pinned firmly. There was too much weight for him to budge it. But his right...

With a roar, Jaune whipped his right hand around. He connected with something solid before cracking his knuckles on the bed's headboard. He felt the pain, but did nothing more than acknowledge its existence. Still, it added a bit of clarity to his rage. His screams became a bit more coherent.

"Pirate!" He sat up, struggling against the grip on his left arm. "Let me go pirate!"

Suddenly his back was driven back into his cushions. There was a heavy weight on his chest and there was a voice in his ear—so loud, it was impossible to ignore.

"Jaune! Calm down! We aren't pirates! We're your friends!"

Jaune's body siezed up all at once.

His flailing ceased. His next scream died in his throat. He was panting, desperately gulping air, slowly returning to reality. It was the taste of blood that brought him the rest of the way back.

Gradually Jaune became aware of a crying child. Cece. He must have terrified her.

The grip on his left arm loosened, he could hear a woman shushing and whispering. Cece's cries quickly subsided.

Jaune blinked back the tears still crowding his vision.

He was...surprised by what he, eventually, made out. Just as she had when he first woke up earlier, Ellie loomed above him. She was straddling his stomach. Her eyes were full of worry and concern. Jaune's gaze flickered to the side of her face.

A gash ran from just outside her left eye to the middle of her cheek.

It was her blood dripping down onto his lips.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Jaune suddenly sat up, causing her to jerk away so much she nearly toppled backwards. Jaune managed to catch her though, she settled on his lap.

Jaune stared at her injury, words escaping him. He reached up, intending to touch the laceration. "Did I do this?" he asked, hoping his voice conveyed the horror he felt.

"No." Ellie didn't so much as flinch as she replied. "I slipped and hit my face on the stand."

Jaune glanced at the nightstand to his right. Sure enough, there was blood on the corner, as well as a bit on the floor near it.

He turned back to Ellie. Her right cheek, where he had hit her, was already swelling up. What was even the point of lying to him about this?

"I'm so sorry," began Jaune. "I don't—"

Ellie grabbed his hand before he could touch the wound. "Don't worry about it right now. Are you alright?"

Don't worry about it?

He watched more blood drip down the side of her face.

What was this girl?

Rather than answer Ellie's question, Jaune scooted to the edge of the bed. Ellie still on him. The girl was clearly confused, up until the moment he supported her weight and stood.

"What are you..."

She trailed off as he gently set her back on the bed. The girl returned to confusion when he pulled the sheets up to her chest, like a parent tucking in a child or a nurse their patient.

What should he do? What should he say? Sure, Ellie didn't seem mad, or even like she was in pain. But look at how much blood she was losing! It probably wasn't life threatening or anything. But the knowledge that he had been the one to do that to her pressed down on him like a boulder in a bag.

He needed to do something, obviously. He need to help Ellie, to make it right—well as best he could. The question, was how...?

"Misses Arc..." His words caught in his throat as he turned towards Ellie's mother.

Would she be enraged? Would she want him off the ship? Would she have him locked up in the brig?

"I—I'm so sorry I don't know...why I..." Jaune trailed off. What was he even supposed to say? How was he supposed to explain what had just happened when he didn't have a clue?

A few more whispered words from the Arc matron calmed Cece down to muted sniffles. She then turned her attention to him and Ellie.

Her eyes were absent the anger Jaune expected. Her expression was just like Ellie's, laced with concern. Not just for him, obviously, but for the two daughters he had just traumatized.

That lack of hatred gave Jaune a bit more confidence. "I don't know what just happened to me. I'm so sorry. I—could you show me where the bandages are?"

Willow stared at him, wordlessly.

For a moment, Jaune thought she might tell him he had done enough, and to leave.

Instead, she said, "drawer on the night stand next to you."

Jaune pulled open the drawer and snatched the red bag within. He withdrew the items he thought he'd need, alcohol…gauze…cotton balls…

tweezers...?

Wipes…?

Tissues…?

Iodine…?

Jaune's eyes began to water again. It didn't help that Ellie was still looking at him with such concern, despite the injury he had inflicted upon her.

"Jaune," Ellie's voice was soft. "My dad is a semblance user and so are a couple other people on the ship. Everyone's really strong. We run into pirates all the time. So, don't cry."

Was she still trying to comfort him?

The thought put a warmth _and_ a pit in his stomach.

He swiped at his eyes. "I'm not crying because of the pirates…" Saying the word triggered something in him, but it was nothing like before. He clamped down on that surge of emotion and pushed it aside. "…it's just…" Jaune lifted the medical equipment he had withdrawn from the first aid kit. "I don't know how to use any of this stuff."

Ellie stared at him.

Jaune looked down at his hands.

"What?" said Ellie finally.

"Your cut, I don't know how to bandage it."

"You're crying because you don't know first-aid?"

"No," began Jaune, starting to tear up again. "I just didn't mean to hurt you, and now I don't know how to fix it…" His chest heaved. With no small amount of self-loathing, Jaune realized he was about to sob again.

He jumped when he felt two hands on his shoulders. "Cece, go help your sisters clean up."

Cece protested cutely, but Willow was immune. The girl shuffled out of the room.

"Let's clean Ellie up together, okay Jaune?"

Jaune nodded.

"You can help me with the bandages, but first I need to clean it. It's going to sting a little so why don't you go around to the other side of the bed and distract her?"

Jaune nodded. He could do that.

Ellie's eyes tracked him as he maneuvered around the bed. When he arrived she turned her head, giving her mother better access to her cut and her a better view of Jaune. "You're a bit of a crybaby aren't you Jaune?"

Her tone was teasing, but Jaune could not help but answer her seriously. "I don't think so. I don't think I've always been like that about…pirates. I think I wanted to be one when I was a kid, maybe. I just…I can't remember anything…" Jaune wondered if his voice sounded as scared as her felt. It was strange, his memory being so selective.

It was as if he was half a person.

"Don't worry about it." Ellie winced as her mother dabbed at the split along her face with a cotton ball. "It's better if you don't remember anything."

"Why?" asked Jaune.

"Because I'm going to build you from the ground up. You'll be the best little brother ever."

Willow snickered, audibly.

Jaune fought off the faintest trace of a smile. "Are you even older than me?"

"How old are you?"

Jaune thought for a moment. He gave up when he ran into the gray mist. "Can't remember."

Ellie grinned. "Then little brother it is."

*l*l*

 _Five Years Two Months Before the Present_

Jaune yawned, swatting at whatever was poking him, unwilling to open his eyes, determined to stay asleep.

The poking, however, did not stop. It became obvious that the determination of the "poker" was several times stronger than that of the "poke-ee" so, after enduring for two or three minutes, Jaune sat up, acting as if she had just then succeeded in waking him. He stretched his sore spine, listening for the telltale pop of his vertebrae decompressing.

Sleeping up here was a pain. It hadn't been a year ago. But it was now. He was nearly six feet tall, and the crow's nest was a circle about five feet in diameter. The only way for him to lay down was to curve himself into a sort of crescent shape, either on his side, along the rim of the bowl, or on his back, in the middle. He preferred the second option, it left him less sore in the morning.

Sadly—or, rather, quite happily in fact—the second option often was not available to him. There wasn't enough room for it with two people up here. And he was rarely in the nest—or _anywhere_ if he was being honest with himself—without his "other half."

Ellie fit into the confined space of the nest several times better than Jaune. She was still just about as petite as when Jaune had first met her, a bit womanlier, but only in a twelve-year-old kind of way. She had clearly been awake for a while. Her chin and arms rested lightly on the lip of the nest. Her eyes were locked on the edge of the sun.

Jaune winced at the way her scar reflected the light. The skin was perpetually pale, a stark contrast to the rest of Ellie's sun-kissed tone. He felt terrible when he spent too much time looking at it. That wasn't to say he thought it made her look bad.

He thought it rather complimented her tough-as-nails personality and, otherwise, perfectly symmetrical face.

But that didn't mean he didn't regret having been the one to inflicted the wound.

Jaune followed her gaze to the horizon. A halo of red, orange, and yellow peeked over the sea.

It was a good view. Sunrises were always nice when they were at sea. They were even better following a storm.

The monsoon the previous night was brief, but it was enough to produce the sort of bluish sunrise that Ellie loved.

Which was why she had dragged him up here an hour before dawn.

Ellie exhaled. "It's so beautiful."

Jaune nodded. "Yeah, it's alright."

Ellie rolled her eyes at his nonchalance. "Here, you heathen." She offered him her brush.

Jaune glared at her tangled net of golden hair in despair. "Must I?"

"Sorry, Jaune, that's just the role of a little brother. They brush their sister's hair."

"Do they really though?" asked Jaune, though he was already working the brush through her hair. "I don't have a lot to go on, but my little brother instincts are telling me I should be yanking, not brushing."

"What do your little brother instincts say about fifty-foot falls?"

Jaune peered over the edge of the nest. The deck looked a _little_ further away than fifty feet. "I think they're telling me to go with a Mistralian braid."

Ellie hummed. "They just keep getting better every day, don't they?"

"Yeah, I keep telling them to slow down, but someone's got it stuck in their head that they've gotta be _perfect_."

Ellie laughed. "I wonder who that someone is?"

Jaune worked out a knot gently with his finger before taking the brush to that section. "Real mystery."

The two sat in amiable silence for a few moments before Jaune asked, "shouldn't we get down before we get in trouble?"

"If dad wants to get mad at me for being up here, he can come up here and get me himself."

Jaune scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one getting beaten with a wooden sword every other day."

"Dad's not beating you," replied Ellie. "He's training _and_ beating you."

Ah, Ellie's weapon-of-choice, the 'distinction without a difference.' Jaune didn't mind it. But if Aren were up here the two sisters would have duked it out until, inevitably, they fell to the deck a tree-length below.

"And you know I'd switch places with you in a heartbeat. It's not fair. You, Alana, Crystal, he's training all of you. Me? I just get 'keep studying' or 'go back to your books'. How weak does he think I am?"

"You and I both know he doesn't think you're weak," said Jaune. "He knows you're smart. He wants you to do something with that big brain."

Ellie huffed. "Whose side are you on?"

"The truth's."

"I'll show you the truth..." Ellie trailed off.

Jaune had a feeling Ellie was about to whirl on him and, either, beat him with her hair brush, or tickle him in such a way that he felt uncomfortable pushing her off.

Neither event would be particularly pleasant this high off the ground. How was he supposed to flee?

Fortunately, the torture was prevented by Crystal's face suddenly peering down at them. She swung on the rope netting that stretched a few feet above the nest. Her left hand and left foot dangled over empty space. "Figured I'd find you lovebirds up here. This where the magic happens?"

"Crystal..." Ellie's voice was a not so much a warning as it was a threat. A serious one.

Crystal was, as always, immune. She laughed behind her hand.

"What magic?" asked Jaune. He wasn't dumb. He knew what Crystal was talking about. But if he spurred on an argument between her and Ellie here it would leave him an opening to make an escape. He'd rather avoid a beating or a tickling treatment from Ellie. The rocking of the boat was beginning to affect him. His stomach was complaining that he hadn't taken his medicine this morning. Throwing up in this giant bowl-shaped nest was a terrible idea. Cleaning would be a pain... He couldn't imagine what Ellie would do to him if any got on her...

Yeah. It was time to go.

"Oh, you know, the making out and stuff," said Crystal without a hint of shame.

Jaune, despite expecting a comment like that, felt a bit of heat pepper his face. It was nothing compared to Ellie's red-faced fury though.

"Crystal! I told you to stop implying uncouth things about Jaune and I. He's our little brother!"

"Not so little anymore, though, is he?" Crystal's ears perked up the way they always did when she was amused. It looked similar to the way her ears behaved when she was listening intently to something in the distance.

Jaune had a theory, that when she was teasing, the girl listened to her victim's breathing, heartbeat, and the like—to ensure she was torturing them effectively.

Crystal had never confessed to as much. But she did claim to have the best hearing out of the Arcs with Faunus ear traits. So that probably meant something.

"Don't worry Jaune. I think Ellie like's 'em tall."

"I do not..." Ellie's shouted denial trailed into oblivion as she glanced at Jaune. Her face was red. Much redder than Crystal normally managed to make her.

She must have been furious.

Jaune spoke up. "Do you need something Crystal?"

"Thanks for asking," she chirped. "I was having this fun conversation with Ellie last night and she vanished on me! I figured it'd be a little harder for her to get away up here.

"Too bad there's only room for two up here," said Ellie.

"Let's switch spots," recommended Jaune.

"What?" cried Ellie, voice dripping with the pain of betrayal.

Crystal cheered. "That's right, I'm his big sister too, you don't get to train him to be an obedient little brother and then expect him not to listen to me!"

Well, that wasn't really true. Jaune would be a hundred times more comfortable ignoring Crystal than he would be ignoring Ellie.

But, there wasn't much reason to bring that up _now,_ was there?

Jaune stood and dusted off his pants. As Crystal stepped into the nest he latched on to the rope ladder.

"Jaune, don't you dare leave me with this miscreant."

Jaune handed his 'sister' back her brush, stepping off the platform. "Sorry Ellie, but I didn't take my medicine this morning...besides, you're sisters...you should..." Jaune considered what he was trying to say. "...talk and stuff," he finished lamely.

"Yeah, Ellie. Don't you want to talk to me?" Crystal's voice was borderline sadistic.

"Jaune!" screamed Ellie.

Jaune couldn't hear her. The wind was whistling too loudly as he descended.

"Jaune!" Her voice was angrier.

Too bad he couldn't hear her.

"Jaune!"

Just listen to that ocean.

"Hey Jaune."

Jaune dropped the rest of the way to the deck. "Good morning Pallo." Jaune greeted the swarthy man with a smile and a wave.

Pallo was greeting the morning sun with a series of martial arts stretches. Jaune had asked him what the purpose of all the slow movements and difficult poses was a year ago. Pallo claimed it was to balance his aura and open the points in his body through which it flowed. It, supposedly, increased health, fortune, and happiness.

Jaune wasn't sure about _all_ of that. But the man was a certified badass at hand-to-hand combat. Jaune had tried to learn from him.

It hadn't gone well.

Jaune saluted up towards the helmsman. The man was dutifully holding the ship's wheel steady.

Ripley responded with a question. "Where the hell is Oliver! He was supposed to relieve me _at_ sun-up!"

Jaune shrugged. "Really? He got awful drunk last night for a man who had to be up early."

Ripley released a long string of swears. "I'm practically sleeping standing up here Jaune. Someone needs to replace me!"

"I'll look for Oliver. And—if I can't find him—I'll relieve you myself. Sound good?"

Ripley nodded. "Hurry. I'm starting to see icebergs. I'm ignoring them for now but if one of them turns out to be real we'll be screwed."

Jaune chuckled. Ripley was always "seeing icebergs." The man had become fond of the expression ever since they had passed one when traveling through northern waters.

Jaune disappeared into the ship's living area. Others were just now waking up. Jaune waved to a boy a few years younger than him—Greg, son of the resident carpenter. Jaune continued down the hall until he found the Arc partition of the ship. Four rooms set across from each other down a narrow hall. Jaune's "room" was less a room and more a closet with a bed. Actually, that was exactly what it was—a closet with a bed.

There was just enough room for the door to open before his bed dominated the rest of the space. There was also enough room for a small stand with several drawers in the corner.

Changing was a hassled within the confined space. Sometimes he would put on his pants while lying in bed because it was safer than banging into walls as he clumsily attempted to line up his legs.

Yeah, the room was small. But it suited him just fine. After all, he didn't spend much time in his quarters.

How could he? There was always something interesting to do or learn on deck. Mathias was always willing to improve his navigating skills or help him practice drawing maps. Pallo knew every knot in history, and was always more than happy to share. Oliver had more knowledge about ships than…

Well more knowledge than was necessary, if Jaune was being frank. Understanding the difference between starboard and port was important. Understanding how to operate the sails was important. Learning how to fix and patch damage to the ship was important

Knowing what tree made the best keel… And the name of the shipwright who first used that tree as a keel. And the prime climate conditions in which to raise that tree for ship use in, approximately, its twenty-sixth year…

Well…some of that information felt a little over the top.

Just a little.

Jaune opened his top drawer and grabbed a small metal box. He replaced the container after picking out a pill and popping it into his mouth. That would settle his stomach after a few minutes.

Ugh. Seasickness was just the worst.

Especially since he lived on a boat. That 'merciful' god Willow was always talking about had managed to afflict Jaune with a disorder so ironic in its cruelty that it was almost eclipsed by its comedy.

Almost.

Jaune shut his door behind him as he made his way down the hall. He expected Oliver to be dead-drunk in his bedroom—Jaune supposed he'd check their first. He paused when he heard hushed voices whispering from Mathias and Willow's bedroom. Jaune didn't intend to eavesdrop but when he heard his name he couldn't help but reverse his pace and place an ear lightly against the couple's closed door.

"…I'm not saying that Will, I love Jaune too. I'm just…wondering if there's not more we could be doing for him. We've asked about pirate attacks around the time when we found him. Shipwrecks...Missing children… Children assumed to have drowned… We ask, but it's always just been something we do in addition to our business at the port. Maybe it's time we were more…intentional?"

"I think we need to talk to Jaune about this Matt... Because if he really wants to leave us…"

Jaune's eyes widened when he heard the Arc Matron's voice crack. Was she on the verge of tears? The very idea of Willow Arc on the cusp of any sort of emotional breakdown was foreign, strange, and felt…wrong.

"…if he really wants to go I think we should help him but…" Willow's words began to run together. "But I consider him my son, and if he doesn't see me as his mother than he should go find his real one because I want him to be happy but I…"

Willow trailed off as, Jaune assumed, her husband comforted her.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. You're okay. You're right. We do need to talk to Jaune. He's as big as a man now, at least." Mathias chuckled. "Jaune's a smart kid. He'll tell us what he wants to do. I just…need to make sure, if he does say that he wants to find his biological parents, you won't think that's somehow your fault. That you're a bad mother because of it."

There was a moment of silence before Willow replied. "I'm a terrible person."

"What!?", said Mathias.

Jaune shared the man's incredulity.

Willow continued, "I think about Jaune's parents sometimes. I think about his mother. I think about how, if she's alive, she must miss her beautiful little boy. I think about her crying. And I just want to give her a hug…"

"I fail to see how that makes you a terrible person."

"Because," answered Willow. "I want to give her a hug. But…" Willow's voice began to crack again "…I don't want to give her Jaune."

Mathias laughed at the distinction. "You're a protective mom. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There is when the boy I'm protecting doesn't call me mom and the woman I'm protecting him from gave birth to him."

"Well…" began Mathias. He faded off, clearly unsure how to finish. Willow had a point.

After some quiet, Willow spoke again, "I've got an idea."

"Oh?"

"Let's ask Jaune if he wants to become an Arc—officially. _Jaune Arc._ It has a nice ring to it doesn't it?"

"It does," said Mathias. "And you know how much I'd love a son. But how about we talk to Jaune about _his_ family before we start asking him to officially join ours?"

"I guess," Willow responded, with a hint of petulance.

Jaune smiled when he heard the whine in her voice. She must have been feeling better if she was able to make voices like that. She had probably sorted her feelings out—at least a little.

He, on the other hand, had grown remarkably confused. The Arc family was a group of amazing people. The clan stood as a testament to Mathias's and Willow's parenting skills and—naturally—the fact that they were amazing people too.

Ellie had, essentially, forced him into the role of her brother from day one.

And he had accepted the duties and responsibilities of that role without complaint. In the beginning it had probably helped that he felt guilty enough about the scar he had given her to do just about anything to make up for it.

Now he let her yank him around because…well…it was Ellie. That's what she did. So, yeah, she was his "sister"—sort of, maybe friend was more accurate. But "sister" was still close enough.

Now, his relationship with Willow and Mathias was different. He'd always considered them his saviors. He looked to them as the people to whom he owed his life. But calling them "mom" or "dad" had always felt like the sort of thing he needed explicit permission to do. As if he would be crossing some invisible boundary by doing it.

Surprisingly, it sounded as if there was a similar boundary surrounding him. A boundary that had prevented the Arc adults from asking him whether he'd like to be their son. It was an awkward, yet amusing situation.

Jaune prepared to slink off. He would find somewhere private to process this information. Ellie would eventually find him, if Cece or Mist didn't first, but hopefully he would have figured out what he was going to do with this new information by then.

"Hey Jaune, whatcha listening to?"

Jaune whirled. He'd been so focused on the conversation behind the doors he hadn't noticed Cece enter the hall. Her tail wagged with her usual morning energy and her smile was wide as a boat. There was something incredibly soothing about Cece's eagerness to greet her loved ones every morning. It was incredibly refreshing.

Jaune turned, leaning his back against the door. "Well—"

Jaune's explanation came to an instant halt when the door behind him swung open. Jaune feel backwards, eyes wide. He landed on his butt. Two feminine arms looped around his.

"W-what?" was all he managed to stammer as he was dragged into the Arc Master bedroom. Jaune watched Cece's questioning eyes until he was released and Willow went for the door. Once it was closed Willow leaned against it, arms splayed, eyes narrow and locked on Jaune.

Jaune glanced behind him. Mathias was watching with a mixture of amusement and confusion. The man looked as if he was watching a clown rob a bank.

"How much did you hear?" asked Willow.

"Are you going to kill me if I say a lot?" asked Jaune, laughing nervously. He was still recovering from the way he'd just been extracted from the hall.

Willow pushed off the door, sighing. "No. This actually makes things simpler doesn't it?"

Mathias moved to join his wife by the door. "I'd say so. Jaune, what are your thoughts on what we were just discussing?"

Ah. So, that thing, where he was going to process this information overload and figure out what he should do with it all.

Looked like that was off the table now.

Jaune tried to sort out his feelings as he answered the adults' question.

"You guys know I can't remember much about my life before you all picked me up."

Mathias and Willow nodded.

"I think I was on a ship. And I think we were attacked by pirates. That would at least explain why I can't even stand the thought of them." Jaune shuddered.

"Sure." Willow nodded, clearly, she wanted him to get to the points she didn't already know.

Only problem was Jaune was trying to figure that stuff out too.

"To be honest, I've wondered about my family. Were they on that ship too? Did they die? How did I escape? That sort of thing. But I've never felt like I had to go find them..."

It wasn't until Jaune had said it that he realized just how true that statement was. His curiosity concerning his roots had always been idle. Never active. Was that because he didn't care? Because people didn't matter to him?

"...because, even though we've never made it official or anything, I've just been thinking of you guys as family."

Willow's smile was bright enough be mistaken for a distress signal. She placed a hand on her husband's shoulder as she bounced up and down. "I told you! I told you I was a good mom!"

"No one ever said you weren't," replied Mathias. "I said Jaune's decision regarding his past doesn't say anything about—"

Willow interrupted him. "You were just saying that in case he said he wanted to leave."

"I definitely wasn't."

Willow was already on her knees, next to Jaune, hugging him. "Oh, this is just too perfect! Let's stop at a government building on the next island and make Jaune an Arc!"

Mathias rolled his eyes at his wife's eclectic behavior but smiled regardless. "I think we can manage that."

Jaune smiled as Willow practically rammed his face into her shoulder, forcing him to reciprocate the massive hug. "Guess I'll be Ellie's brother for real now huh?"

Willow suddenly shoved Jaune away. It was so sudden he landed on his back "Oh! I forgot about that!" She raised her thumb to her mouth and chewed on her nail. "That won't work," she muttered.

Jaune sat up. "Um, Mrs. Arc—?"

She cut him off. "Call me mom from here on out."

"O-okay. M-mom. What should I call..." He glanced up at Mathias.

Mathias opened his mouth.

Willow spoke first, although, she was clearly distracted by...something. "He's a man. He doesn't care what you call him. Captain, Mr. Arc, Matt, Dad, take your pick."

Jaune looked back at Mathias. He certainly didn't look as if he wanted Jaune to pick a name at random. Instead of saying as much, Mathias asked, "honey, is something wrong?"

Willow nodded, standing next to her beloved husband. "We can't adopt Jaune. We'll have to make him our son the other way."

"The other way?" questioned Mathias and Jaune simultaneously.

Jaune was still confused when Mathias's face transformed into one of realization. Suddenly he was glaring at Jaune suspiciously. "What the hell does she mean by that Jaune?"

Jaune raised two open palms. How, exactly, had this entire thing just turned against him? "Why are you asking me? I don't know what she means!"

"Really...?" insisted Mathias. The captain squinted at him as if his eyesight was failing.

"Of course, he doesn't," said Willow. "That's because he's stupid. And so are you. And so is every other man in the world."

"How am I stupid?" asked Mathias. "Jaune I understand, he looks like he doesn't even know what we're talking about—"

"Hey!"

"—but how am _I_ stupid?"

"Because you know at least _some_ of your daughters are going to get married _someday_."

"Well, sure. When they're thirty. And financially stable—and maybe not ever if we can get them interested in some other hobbies. I've heard girls are getting really into this sport from the island of Lah-Crose, maybe if we get them all interested in going pro that'll distract them from—"

Willow interrupted Mathias's rambling with a question that looked as if it would just about kill the man. "Married at thirty—to some man you hardly know? Or married at eighteen to Jaune?"

Mathias froze.

As did Jaune.

Marriage? His mouth made a small circle shaped as he realized what this "other" method of becoming a son entailed.

"Y-you can't just. That's not a f-fair question..."

Jaune had never seen the ship captain reduced to a stuttering mess before. It was weird. And oddly terrifying.

Especially the way his wife kept grinning malevolently at him.

"Was the question not specific enough?" Willow's innocent voice was in stark contrast to her malicious face. "How about this? Ellie married to the shipwrecked project of a man she'll undoubtedly take pity on right around when she's ready for children? Or Jaune?"

"I...I..." Mathias pupils were dilated. His jaw was slack.

"What do you think Jaune?" Willow turned her gaze on him. "Would you rather marry Ellie—or watch her get married to a drunk abusive lazy husk of a man?"

Jaune's eyes widened even more. He couldn't put his finger on it. But there was something about that question that felt broken and inherently unfair.

"It's not rhetorical Jaune. Which do you prefer?"

Jaune swallowed. "M-marrying her?"

Willow turned to her husband, who had relaxed a little. Jaune wasn't sure why. She placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him.

"Guess we'll have to wait a few years but Jaune'll still be an Arc."

Mathias quirked an eyebrow up. "Are you done?"

Willow dropped her hands and released an annoyed huff. "It's not as fun once you calm down."

"Well, excuse me for not enjoying _being_ worked up as much as you enjoy _watching_ me get worked up."

"You're forgiven," responded Willow magnanimously.

"So, do you want to adopt Jaune at the next port?"

"Oh, no." Willow reached for the door. "You misunderstand, I was serious about that part. Adopting Jaune officially could put our dear little Ellie in a very uncomfortable position over the next few years."

Mathias stepped aside. "What do you mean? Ellie doesn't have any interest in boys."

Willow opened the door. "And she may never have any interest in boy- _s._ " She placed unnatural emphasis on the 's' at the end of 'boys.' "But she's definitely..."

Willow trailed off as she looked down at Mist. The girl was crouched, her Faunus ears stood erect. She stared at her mother as if she had been caught stealing food from the galley.

"You heard all of that, didn't you Mist?"

Mist nodded.

Willow bent, leveling her eyes with her daughter's. "It'd be pretty unreasonable of me to ask you not to share all of this with your sisters wouldn't it?"

Mist nodded again, slower, uncertain of where this was heading.

"But we talked about a lot and I'm sure it'll get all jumbled if you try to go through all of it. So, here's what I want you to take away from all this. Jaune..." She pointed back towards him. "...is our son now because he's Ellie's fiance."

Mist's eyes lit up as if she was a reporter who had just received the perfect sound-bite.

"Will!" Mathias shouted.

"Run," said Willow.

Suddenly she and Mist were gone, dashing down the hall, no doubt heading for the deck.

Mathias took off after them a second later.

Jaune was left on his butt, in their bedroom, uncertain of what had just transpired. The confusion wasn't foreign or strange. He'd been with the Arcs for almost three years now. They were...an unusual bunch. Half-human, half-Faunus. Seven children—all girls. A hyper-mother who could switch from child to authoritarian to sales-man at the drop of a hat. A father with ridiculous strength—but a softness for children.

Oh. And they all lived on a boat.

Jaune pushed himself to his feet.

This kind of stuff was just what it meant to be an Arc.

And it never failed to bring a smile to his face.

Jaune exited the bedroom. What had he been doing?

Right.

Looking for Oliver.

*l*l*

 _Present Day_

 _"God help us," said Pallo, accent thick._

 _Jaune followed his father's gaze. He spun as he surveyed the horizon in every direction. More than two dozen ships, all flying the same skull and crossbones banner. They were still a mile or two out, but their precise spacing, despite the incredible circumference of their circle. only made them seem even more intimidating. They were on every side. And they were drawing incrementally closer. All at an even pace._

 _"Why would_ ** _his_** _fleet be this far east?" asked Mathias._

 _Jaune wished he had an answer for him. He really did._

 _"Do we surrender?" asked Oliver._

 _"To what grisly fate?" asked Mathias. "Pillaging, murder, and rape?"_

 _Jaune ground his teeth._

 _Pirates._

 _Why was it always pirates?_

 _The Merchant's Boon, had been attacked by buccaneers several times since Jaune had joined. But never by one of the big crews. They were a merchant ship. They were always careful to stay out of the waters ruled by the Pirate-Lords._

 _Seemed those waters must have expanded since their last map update—a week ago._

 _Mathias passed the spy-glass to Jaune._

 _Jaune didn't bother with it. "Well, if we're going to break through, the largest gap between ships is right over there."_

 _"Seems a little too large," said Ripley._

 _"I agree. Probably a trap." Jaune dropped to his knees and unraveled his map, spreading it across the wood. Not like we'd be able to get away from them, even if we made it through that way. We'd make a little headway while they wasted time turning around but they're obviously lighter."_

 _The other crew-members nodded along with him._

 _"I say we go...South." Jaune pointed to a section of the map._

 _Pallo gasped. "Towards the Devil's Triangle?"_

 _Jaune nodded. "It's not ideal, I know. But if we manage to get through this blockade, and we manage to catch the Nor'Ester current we'll even out our speed differences—hell—they probably won't even follow us in."_

 _"But once we're in the Nor'Ester..." Ripley trailed off._

 _"We're committed. That current puts us right in the middle of the Devil's Triangle."_

 _Pallo muttered some words in his home-tongue. In common language he said, "The storms in the Triangle, they come and go without warning, vicious storms. Once every-ten-year storms on the rest of the ocean—coming and going on a whim."_

 _"Who doesn't like the challenge of taming the ocean when it's at its angriest?" asked Oliver, unscrewing his flask._

 _"It's not just the ocean," reminded Ripley. "You can't forget about the monsters."_

 _Pallo muttered a few more words that no one present could interpret. When he returned to common language he asked, "what will happen if we are taken by the pirates again?"_

 _"My bet," said Oliver, lips still glued to his flask. "Kill the men. Sell the women and children as slaves. Keep the prettiest ones for themselves."_

 _"So, it's sure death for_ ** _us_** _if we surrender, but our families might survive—sort of. And probable death for everyone if we manage to make it into the Nor'Ester and get carried into the Devil's Triangle." Ripley exhaled. "Times like this I'm extra glad that I'm not captain."_

 _"I'm extra glad you're not captain every day," said Mathias._

 _The men chuckled._

 _Mathias stared into the distance, silent._

 _Finally, he spoke, "We'll take on the sea and the monsters with fins. It's what fair to our crew. And it's true, the pirates_ ** _might_** _spare the women and children, but I know my wife would rather take her chances with the sea than watch our daughters get passed around by pirate scum." Mathias smiled at each of his closest shipmates. "Boys, let's take on the devil."_

 _The ship went into a flurry of action._

 _Jaune remained where he was, on the ground, pencil on map. He took note of the direction their flag was blowing, the direction of the, now, setting sun._

 _His heading had to be perfect here._

 _If he was off by even a bit…_

 _He didn't want to think about it._

 _There was no point on dwelling on what wouldn't happen. He would figure out a route past the pirates and into the Devil's Triangle. And then he would figure out a route out._

 _Sure, they'd all need a vacation after this, but that was it._

 _They'd all be…_

 _Jaune looked up from his map. The scene was different than the last time he'd glanced upwards. The ships location was different as well. They had broken out of the pirate blockade. Now they were near the Nor'Ester._

 _So close to freedom._

 _But The Merchant's Boon was burning. Jaune watched the sails above dissolve into glowing orange particles._

 _The roar of the fire was louder than the ocean. There was combat, all around him. Mathias was wielding Crocea Mors glowing in a golden light, using his semblance to slice boarders from a distance. Oliver wove in and out of assailants with his strange drunken fist._

 _The other crew members shouted and screamed as they defended all that they held precious._

 _Jaune spotted his father and captain, falling backwards, after a shot rang out. "Dad!" He screamed._

 _"Sniper!" shouted Oliver._

 _Then he too was hit. He dropped without warning, twice as fast as Mathias had._

 _Jaune's mind dragged as the destruction continued all around him. What could he do? Why was this feeling of hopelessness so familiar?_

 _Was this what had happened to him so many years ago? Had pirates killed everyone he knew and loved? Was that why he detested them so much? Was that why he hated the very word?_

 _A third ship arrived at The Merchant's Boon. It dropped a massive bridge contraption with a spiked bottom. The bridge shattered the merchant ship's deck as if it was paper. The man who proceeded down the ship was every bit as elegant and terrifying as Jaune had always imagined him to be._

 _His long silver hair flowed down the back of his neck. His right eye was covered with a bejeweled patch. He looked to be about Mathias's age—maybe a few years older. A crewman Jaune recognized ran at him, sword raised. The silver-haired pirate's sword was drawn, slashed through his opponent's stomach, and back in its sheath before Jaune could blink._

 _So, this was him._

 _The Silver Pirate-Lord. One of the four that ruled the sea._

 _Jaune had heard that, of the four, the Silver Pirate-Lord was among the top two for the most powerful semblance._

 _Jaune watched him weave effortlessly through the violence, occasionally cutting down a member of the merchant crew._

 _"Jaune!"_

 _Jaune jumped when a pair of arms wrapped around his stomach. He kicked at the owner's shins until he realized who it was._

 _"Dad?"_

 _Hadn't he seen him get gunned down?_

 _Aura._

 _That's right. Semblance users had aura._

 _"Jaune, deep breath, hold your nose."_

 _Jaune's eyes widened, as he realized what his father was doing._

 _Jaune managed to grab on to some netting as he dropped down the side of the ship, allowing him to narrowly avoid hitting the water._

 _What was his father thinking?_

 _Jaune could fight! Not well. But he was still able-bodied!_

 _He began to pull himself up the cargo net. Then he heard two voices._

 _"I assume you're the captain?" asked an unfamiliar voice._

 _"I assume the same of you," replied Mathias._

 _"If you would like to jump ship I am not opposed to allowing you."_

 _"How could I sleep—even with the fishes—knowing I abandoned my ship and crew?"_

 _The unfamiliar voice—who Jaune assumed was the Silver Pirate-Lord—laughed. "Indeed."_

 _There was an exchange of sword blows. Jaune heard them ring out._

 _But they did not ring out for long. A white beam of pulsating energy erupted off the ship. The beam wasn't especially thick, but it extended into the horizon for, what looked like, miles. Jaune watched the beam vanish._

 _What was that?_

 _Was that the Silver Pirate-Lord's semblance? Jaune heard a few stuttering steps. And then he saw his father. Staggering, back bent over the railing. The man toppled over, crashing into Jaune on his way down._

 _They fell into the water with one splash. Mathias atop him._

 _Jaune opened his eyes immediately. The surface was clearly lit thanks to the burning ship. He pushed his father upwards. Only to see surface through him._

 _Jaune froze, he watched his father gently float upwards, a gaping hole where his stomach used to be._

 _There was no blood. No entrails._

 _Just a clean perfect circle._

 _He opened his mouth—to scream—but water rush down his throat._

Jaune awoke with a gasp. He sat up, retching water from his lungs.

Only...there was no water.

Jaune looked around. He was in a cabin. He was in a bed. He was warm and dry. He was in... a green robe?

Jaune felt the material. It was soft, like silk—far fancier than anything he had ever worn—but not the nicest fabric he'd ever felt.

His mother was in textiles after all.

"It's mine."

Jaune jumped at the voice. A black-haired boy with a few pink strands approached his bedside. He was wearing a slight alteration of the green outfit on Jaune. Same colors, same basic shape but Jaune's just had more gold. The other boy's was more of a solid green outfit.

In the stranger's hands was a tray with two tea-cups and a kettle, as well as a larger cup. The boy set the tray down on the stand next to the bed. He picked up the large cup. "You'll want to sit up if your thirsty."

Only after hearing those words did Jaune realize just how thirsty he was. His throat was a desert. Only drier—since deserts still occasionally got rain.

Jaune pushed himself up and accepted the cup.

The water was cool and fresh.

It was every bit as good as the water he had tasted when he first woke up aboard _The Merchant's Boon_. What used to be a pleasant memory was now sour. That sourness spread to the water—not that the altered taste would stop him from greedily drinking.

"My name is Lie Ren," said the dark-haired boy.

"Jaune. Jaune Arc." Jaune extended a hand to his savior, just as he had been trained to do. "Nice to meet you Lie."

The boy accepted his hand, shaking lightly. "People call me Ren, not Lie."

"Ah. Sorry."

"No worries, Jaune." Ren accepted back Jaune's empty cup and poured tea into each of the tea cups. "I know you would probably prefer more cold water. But I've made this tea with some herbs that will help soothe the pain in your throat."

Jaune accepted the offered tea cup.

He watched Ren pick up his own.

"Do you have a sore throat too?"

Ren shook his head. "It has a pleasant flavor as well."

Jaune cautiously sipped at the tea. It wasn't too hot, and Ren hadn't misled him about the flavor. It was on the strong side—but soothing to the tongue.

Ren took a few sips from his cup as well. "So, Jaune, is it safe to assume you are the survivor of...a tragedy at sea?"

Jaune nodded. "I was on a merchant ship. We were attacked..." Jaune continued, unsure if it was necessary to tack on the obvious. "...by pirates."

There was the sound of a large crash outside of the room. Jaune looked towards the closed door. It rattled once and then, suddenly it burst open.

"Did you say pirates!?" A young girl virtually appeared out of nowhere, at his bedside, opposite Ren. "Who? Where? When?" The girl leaned closer and closer to him with each question. Her silver eyes were like twin full moons.

"Ruby, I told you to let me talk to him. Your exuberance can be very...disconcerting for people who are just waking up."

"I just thought you might need help Ren!"

"No, you were eavesdropping at the door because you were curious."

" _Actually,_ I was coming to tell you that Nora found where you've been hiding the syrup."

Jaune spotted a small and solitary spark of emotion fly across Ren's face.

"Excuse me Jaune." The boy took off, not quite sprinting, but certainly moving faster than he had been a few moments earlier while carrying the tea.

"So, your name's Jaune, right?" asked the ball of energy Ren left behind.

Jaune nodded. "That's right."

Ruby stuck out her hand. "I'm Ruby Rose, _Captain_ of _The Ambling Rose_."

Jaune accepted her hand. "Nice to meet you Rub—wait did you say captain!?"

Ruby rolled her eyes at his dropped jaw. "Nice, I _never_ get that reaction. Look, I've even got a hat and everything." Ruby felt around her bare head. "Huh, that's weird. Where'd it go?" She cast her eyes about the room. "Ah!"

Jaune lost track of her for a moment, when she ducked down, then she reappeared at his side with a giant, flamboyant black hat. She had to rest it at an awkward angle to keep it from covering her eyes.

She looked so absurd in her oversized hat, Jaune couldn't help but grin.

"Nice hat."

"Thanks!" she cheered.

"Why does it have a skull and crossbones on it?"

"Because I'm a pirate!"

Jaune froze. A series of horrible images flitted through his mind. But he managed to maintain his smile. He laughed awkwardly. "You're a pirate...?"

"Well, yeah. I am the captain of a pirate ship."

"And Ren...?"

"Also, a pirate! He's the ship doctor!"

"Ruby, we need to figure out where...Oh, you're up." Jaune glanced at the doorway. A white-haired girl peered at him curiously. She had blue eyes—super blue eyes. Just like him. Just like most of the Arcs. And she had a scar over one eye. It wasn't the same as Ellie's...

But it certainly reminded him of her.

Ruby disappeared from his bedside, leaving a shower of red petals behind. Suddenly she was next to the white-haired girl. "This is Weiss! She's my first-mate. She wasn't always my first-mate though. Originally Yang was but I couldn't get her to do anything. Weiss though, Weiss practically wants my job!"

"That's because I'd make a better captain than you."

"Hear that!?" Ruby's grin widened. "That's the sound of a great first-mate."

Was it?

"O-okay. But...back to the pirate thing."

Ruby nodded. "Right, right. Yep. We're pirates."

Apparently, that was all Ruby felt needed to be said on the matter.

"Ruby, you're needed on deck," said Weiss, _almost_ sounding exasperated.

"Gotcha." Ruby vanished.

Weiss stared at Jaune critically for a few seconds. Jaune was accustomed to similar stares from his sisters, but hers felt as intense, if not more so, as an _angry_ Ellie. Jaune just barely managed not to shrink back.

"Ruby's not crazy—or, at least, she's not wrong. We are pirates."

Jaune's eyes widened.

"But you don't have to worry about it. We aren't... _that_ kind of pirate."

Jaune had no idea what that meant.

"Why don't you come up with us on deck?"

"I think, I'd rather stay here..." said Jaune. "...If that's okay?" he hurriedly tacked on.

"No, you should come, some exercise will do you good after all that time floating and starving."

Would it really though?

"Plus, I don't want you stealing anything."

Ah.

Well.

Who could argue with that?

Jaune stood on wobbly legs. It took him a moment to relearn how to walk but he soon remembered his old skill.

Weiss led him directly onto the deck. It was a decent sized ship. Nowhere near as impressive as the _The Merchant's Boon_ but still—maybe a thirty-man crew?

It was night time. The sky was already black. The ship was illuminated by several swinging lanterns.

Ruby was staring down at a parchment spread out along the deck next to a much taller, redhead. Ruby was talking a-mile-a-minute. The redhead nodded along patiently.

Ruby broke out of her conversation with, seemingly, no warning when she spotted Jaune and Weiss. "Jaune! You're up. I'll assemble the whole crew, so you can meet them!"

Jaune wasn't sure if he was allowed to say that wasn't necessary. Even if he had been confident enough—he probably wouldn't have gotten it out before Ruby vanished.

Before long, Ruby had a row of four people standing before him. "Weiss, Yang, Blake, and Pyrrha." Ruby counted them off in rapid succession. "There's also Nora and Ren but...they're having...some technical difficulties with the syrup."

"Where're the rest of you?" asked Jaune.

"Do you really _need_ more?" asked the yellow one—Yang—probably. She fluttered her eyelashes playfully.

Jaune ignored that, now solely concerned about this seriously undermanned ship. If Ruby was to be believed this ship was manned by seven people _his_ age?

"This is at least a thirty-man ship!"

"Is it?" asked Ruby.

"I could have sworn they said it was a thirty-five…" began Yang with mock consternation.

"I said 'at least!'" exclaimed Jaune.

"Jaune," began the beautiful redhead. "We make up for our lack of numbers with—"

"Power," cut in Yang as she pointed at and flexed her triceps.

"What does that even—"

Jaune was interrupted by a roar.

Not like the 'roar' of a hungry stomach.

Not like the 'roar' of a crowd.

It was a sudden, violent, ear-splitting roar.

And it was mixed with a deafeningly high screech—just to make the ears bleed a little longer. Jaune crouched low. He'd never heard something like that before. It had sounded primal, fierce, and hungry.

And it had sounded close.

"Dammit Ruby!" said Yang. "That's another one! Where the hell are we?"

"Another what?" asked Jaune.

Ruby ignored him in favor of responding to the blonde. "How should I know!?"

"You're the captain."

Ruby suddenly studied her feet. "Yeah, I know. It's just…it got dark. And then we were moving so fast. And we lost our anchor. And then we slowed down. And then Blake saw Jaune…I just have no idea where we are now."

Yang wrapped her arm around Ruby. "Aw. It could happen to anyone little sis. Come here."

"Guys," Jaune tried again. "What was that noise earlier?"

"Don't worry." The black-haired girl, Blake, spoke for the first time. "It's still a few seconds out." She rolled her eyes. "They all have the exact same attack pattern."

Oh, well, if that wasn't comforting, what the hell was?

Suddenly the water broke on the starboard side. A massive serpent emerged. Slowly, it rose to its full height, stretching well over twenty feet—and that was just above the water.

Jaune could imagine how much more of it was under the water.

What Jaune could see of it, he saw only by dim moonlight. But he saw enough to know…

They were in the middle of the Devil's Triangle.

And…

He was about to die.

The monster screamed again. Jaune covered his ears.

A second later the door to the living quarters flew open. Out popped an orange haired girl, covered in brown liquid, carrying a massive hammer. Following her was Ren—also covered in brown liquid.

"You guys said I could have this one!" screamed the girl.

"No one is trying to take it from you Nora," said Pyrrha.

"Thanks P-diddy. You're the only one on my side."

Jaune wasn't sure what was happening. Were they all suffering from some sort of "inevitable death insanity" or something?

Nora pointed massive metal hammer at the sea-serpent. She screamed, "boom!"

Lightning hurtled from the heavens in a twisting bolt.

Either the strike lasted far longer than a natural bolt or it was several bolts combined… Because the light show went on for about ten seconds.

When it ended. The giant reptile dropped into the water.

Dead? Unconscious? Terrified?

"Overkill much Nora?" said Yang.

"She's had a lot of sugar," said Ren.

Everyone else nodded.

Everyone except for Jaune.

He wasn't quite sure how "having a lot of sugar" translated to "having the ability to summon lightning"

But, maybe that was just him.

The ship lurched forward as a sudden burst of wind hit their sails.

"Hey, we're moving again!" said Ruby. "Now we don't have to waste time trying to figure out where we are."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Jaune, already dreading her answer.

"Well, if we're moving we'll eventually find an island. We can just ask the locals to point to us on a map. And, bam! We're back in business."

Jaune was waiting for her to burst into laughter, to reveal that it was all a joke. She wasn't though. And that was worrisome. "Do you have a map?" asked Jaune.

"Yep. It's right over…" Ruby looked around. "That's weird. I left it on the deck over there."

Jaune glanced up at the full, billowing sales above. Blake and Ren both followed his line of sight.

"Did someone pick it up?" asked Ruby.

"I think it may have blown away, captain," said Blake.

"I lost another one!?" cried Ruby.

Jaune wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. What did these guys think the ocean was? A playground?

"We're in the Devil's Triangle," said Jaune.

"Excuse me?" said Weiss, in a tone that said she demanded proof.

"You said you guys were going really fast earlier? That's because you were in the Nor'Ester. Takes you right into the Devil's Triangle. Then you slowed down. The middle of the Triangle's a calm point—as far as currents go. But there are tons of monsters. Eventually, you drift out of the middle and you get back into the stormy parts of the Triangle. Which is where we are now." Jaune stared up at the sky. The visibility was good. He could make out the necessary stars. "The fastest way out of this hell-hole is North-West which is…" he hummed for a moment and then pointed. "…That way."

Jaune looked back down to receive several gaping expressions.

"Who needs a map!?" roared Nora. "This guy is the map! Who are you map-guy? And how did you get on my ship? Are you a boarder? Shall we break your legs?"

Jaune decided to answer the only question in that series that didn't leave him terrified. "You still need a map."

It was at that moment that Jaune's stomach reminded him of his seasickness affliction.

That feeling, combined with his nausea, his over-all sense of being overwhelmed, and a touch of sleepiness, caused him to faint. His world went dark and his body collapsed.

*l*l*

Jaune awoke in the same bed he had awoken in not so long ago. This time, the room was empty. Devoid of all life.

Perhaps Weiss wasn't so worried about him stealing from them anymore.

Which, come to think of it, was a fine piece of hypocrisy for a pirate!

The ships rocking, and rolling was several times worse now. And Jaune wanted to throw up. He wanted to throw up.

A ton.

But he hadn't eaten in three days. So, it was a bit of a moot feeling.

Jaune rolled out of bed.

He didn't know what he had hoped to accomplish by going on deck, barefoot, right before a violent storm was about to start. But he did it anyway. And he was urged on by the excited cheers he was hearing from Nora and Ruby.

Jaune arrived topside to a…

Well, a sight.

The wind was whipping around them wicked strong. It had to be going at least fifty miles-per-hour.

Ruby and Nora were cheering at the side of the ship because of their speed, or so Jaune assumed. Blake was curled up in a hammock. Yang and Pyrrha were playing dice by the light of a lantern. Weiss was at the ship's helm. And Ren was…meditating...maybe?

"What are you all doing!?" Jaune screamed.

Every eye on the ship turned toward him. Even Blake peeked one eye open.

"A storm is coming!" Thunder added a real-life exclamation mark to that sentence. But it didn't seem to mean much to the people he was addressing. "This the Devil's Triangle do you know how bad storms get around here?" Not a single nod.

Okay. So, no one in the crew knew much about basic geography. That was…well…it just was.

But here was a question they wouldn't have any defense for.

"Why are the sails still out!?"

Ruby's answer broke Jaune's brain.

"Why wouldn't they be?"

Jaune looked around the ship. From Ruby to Weiss to Nora to Ren to Yang to Pyrrha to Blake. Their faces all echoed the same sentiment. Why wouldn't they be?

"Show of hands!" screamed Jaune. "Aside from manning the wheel…how many of you know anything about sailing a boat?"

"Did he say butt?"

"He said boat Nora," corrected Ren.

"Oh, not me then!"

Jaune looked around the rest of the crew.

Not a single hand to be seen…

And that was when the wind picked up.

Shortly after that—as in two to three seconds later—the mast broke.

 **So yeah…that's one third of what I have for the first chapter technically. AND I'M STILL NOT DONE. HAHA. Ha…That's why it consumed more time than expected.**

 **Don't forget to check out my other fics. Follow. Fave. Review. Reviews help me know what fics I should focus on. So definitely, review.**

 **Kay. G'night.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yo, so here we go, chapter 2 of The Navigator. As I explained in the last chapter my original draft for the first chapter of this story was a massive 30k words. So, I had to split it up. (For the sake of a bit of chapter length consistency.) This chapter will continue the introduction from the last chapter. I was a little worried about only releasing that segment last week—because it didn't have as strong a hook factor as the three parts of the intro combined. But the feedback has been pretty positive, so I guess it works out.**

 **This is a long intro—but not as long as Guitar Huntsman—hope that's some comfort.**

 **This is late. Really late, I know that. But that was pretty unavoidable for me. It's a holiday here in the states—and my family makes a pretty big deal about Thanksgiving. My Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and pretty much entire weekend was consumed by Turkey-day. I wrote most of this Sunday night and today.**

 **Also, I changed the description of this fic—it just wasn't working all that well. I'll change it back if the new description is less effective.**

 **And, oh yeah. A reader asked me if I do requests. Um… I dunno. If I really like your request I guess I do. But my usual response will probably be no thanks—I'm too busy.**

 **Without further ado…**

The Navigator Chapter 2

 _Approximately three years after Jaune joined the Arc family_

"What do you think of this one Jaune?" asked Aren.

Jaune tilted his head to the side, searching for the difference between this article and the one a few before it. The color was the same. The cut looked similar. And the fabric...

"Didn't we just look at this dress?"

Aren rolled her eyes. "We're going through all the dresses that made it through the prelims Jaune. Of course, you've already seen it. You've already seen all these." Aren motioned to the mound of dresses piled atop the chair on her right. "Now you're going to see them again and tell me which is best."

"Oh," said Jaune, the last vestiges of light draining from his soul.

He glanced at Ellie. The girl was seated beside him. Unlike Jaune, who could feel the capacity for thought, oozing out of him like a wound, she wore a focused expression, eyes critical.

"I like this one," she began, "but I liked the sapphire shade more. It complimented your eyes better."

Aren fished the darker blue dress from the pile. She held it in front of her. "This one?"

Ellie nodded.

Aren spun towards the mirror, holding the clothing in front of her body. "I agree."

Jaune mustered the energy to lift his head. "Does that mean we're…done?"

His hopeful question was met with derisive laughter. "Done?" repeated Aren. "All we've established is that this blue dress looks better than this blue dress. You know what we haven't established yet?"

"What?" replied Jaune, miserably.

Aren ate up his sadness as if it was sugar. "Whether I'm even getting a blue dress."

Jaune moaned into his open palms. He felt Ellie's hand rubbing small circles on his back.

"You'll be okay Jaune We'll do something you like when we get back to the ship. We just have to do this now because…well—"

"We're on Seamstress Island!" interrupted Aren, with uncharacteristic cheer. "All they do here is make every type of clothing you could possibly want. Mom's getting top dollar for her wares which means we get more spending money…" Aren sighed as she picked up and straightened another dress. "It's the most wonderful place in the Vacuan sea."

"I get it. I get it." Jaune raised his head, meeting Ellie's eyes. "It's just…when you told me to come dress shopping—I thought we were just going for you."

It was at that moment Crystal stepped out of a changing room, dressed in a short white dress that there was _absolutely_ no chance her father would allow her to purchase—much less wear. "Ooh. I'm sorry lover boy. Are we intruding on your date?"

"Crystal," Ellie growled.

The threat in her tone was clear.

Crystal ignored it without hesitation. "Do I owe you an apology too Ellie? Was this your chance to show off for your…" She held up two sets of fingers, exaggerating her air quotes as much as humanly possible. "…little brother?"

Ellie leapt to her feet. "How dare you!"

Well, if hours of boredom and mental exhaustion couldn't get under the indomitable Arc's skin, leave it to Crystal to worm her way underneath in less than thirty seconds.

Aren cut off the argument before it could truly begin. "If the two of you are going to bicker could you please leave? I need Jaune's full attention here."

"Why?", whined Jaune.

"I need a man's opinion," said Aren, sorting through her dress trove.

"Why don't you ask your dad then?"

Aren and Crystal shared a glance and a laugh.

"Dad doesn't know anything about dresses," said Aren.

"Neither do I!" exclaimed Jaune.

"Yet," said Ellie, finally taking her angry eyes off her older sister. She sat back down on the bench, crossing her legs. "You don't know anything about dresses… _yet_. Soon though, you'll be able to make one if need be. This is where it starts—being able to recognize what looks good…"

Jaune tuned out most everything beyond 'you'll be able to make one.' "Why would I ever need to _make_ a dress!?"

Ellie gave a dainty shrug. "Who knows. It's just something a little brother should be able to do."

"I'm starting to think you're making up these little brother requirements as you go along," muttered Jaune. "Also, I think I'm older than you,"

Crystal piped up before Ellie could reply. Her Faunus ears flicked from side to side as she spoke. "Let's not get distracted here. Not after Jaune just told us the real reason he's so down. He was hoping Ellie would try on some dresses for him. Not us two irrelevants."

"Crystal!" This time, Ellie shouted rather than growled, clearly near her breaking point.

Jaune glanced between the two girls. Ellie, on the brink of rage. Crystal, on the edge of laughter.

Was now a good time to interject and explain himself? The real reason he'd been so disappointed to discover it wasn't Ellie who was purchasing a dress was because he knew how efficiently she shopped. She browsed, sure, who didn't? But once she spotted what she wanted she grabbed it, money was exchanged, and they were out of the store.

Admittedly, Jaune had never been _dress_ shopping with Ellie—but he was willing to bet it would be much the same as herb or weapon or hair-care product shopping with the task-oriented girl.

"Come on Crystal," began Aren. "You know Ellie only wears a dress when mom forces her into one…"

"Exactly," agreed Ellie.

"…and," continued Aren, smirking at her furry eared sibling. "You also know that even if Ellie did want to try on some dresses she wouldn't invite Jaune—too much chance of him seeing…" Aren trailed off when she noticed Ellies rapidly reddening face. She finished in a much quieter voice. "…it."

Jaune latched onto the most interesting tidbit of conversation he'd heard in the last two hours. "Too much chance of me seeing what?" he asked.

"Nothing!" replied Ellie, a little too quickly.

She glared at Aren.

Whatever the secret was, it must have been pretty important, since Aren was wide eyed and Crystal actually looked abashed for once.

"A-anyway," said Aren, grabbing a few dresses from the pile. "I'm gonna go try these on."

"I'll help you," volunteered Crystal.

"No," replied Aren. "You'll go try on your own."

"Right," said Crystal. "I'll do that."

Both sisters fled Ellie's glare.

"Ellie," called Jaune, in a singsong voice. "What are you hiding from me?"

Ellie turned towards him. Her face was crimson, and her lips pressed tight. It was the sort of expression that would normally have motivated Jaune to back down.

But there was something about her today. Could it be the blood in her cheeks was not a sign of anger—but embarrassment? If so, this was too rare an opportunity to pass up.

"C'mon Ellie," he poked her in the side. "Are you keeping secrets from your little brother?"

"You just said you think you're older than me," said Ellie, refusing to look at him.

Jaune stuck out his lower lip and leaned around her, trying to catch her eye. His pouting face wasn't especially effective as a method to guilt his siblings into action—but it worked extraordinarily well in getting Ellie to laugh.

Ellie remained steadfast in her resolve to avoid his eyes.

Jaune poked her again.

"Stop it."

He poked her again.

"Stop it!"

She whirled on him—a mistake, since he managed to reapply his pout. Ellie couldn't stop a small smile from surfacing before she turned away once again.

"Come on Ellie, why won't you go dress shopping with me? What are you hiding?"

"It's none of your business."

Jaune exhaled. "I didn't realize we were keeping secrets from each other. Even though _you_ force me to tell you everything."

"I don't _force_ you to do anything Jaune. You always have the option to remain silent."

"Didn't seem that way when everyone was planning your surprise birthday party."

Ellie shrugged. "Well, you have the right to remain silent—that doesn't mean I won't pester you a bit."

Jaune reflected on that for a moment. Ellie's version of 'pestering' him for details concerning the 'plot' taking place behind her back—which was simply a celebration in her honor. She'd cornered him in his small enclosed room, closed the door, dragged him onto the bed, and half tickled half pinched him until he confessed. It was less _pester_ and more _torture_.

But her point remained. He had the option not to break as she straddled him, nimble fingers wreaking havoc on his reason…

But, in the end, he had been too mentally weak to resist her. And physically…

What was he supposed to do? Throw her to the ground?

Well, if all was fair in this information war…

Jaune pulled out his seldom used trump. "Well, Aren knows. Crystal knows. I'm sure the rest of your _real_ siblings know…" Jaune trailed off glumly. It was a low blow. But so was physically attacking him. Plus, he was exhausted and bored, and it was Ellie's fault he wasn't back on the ship, mastering new knots with Pallo.

Ellie smacked his arm. It was probably only meant to 'snap him out of it' but it was way too hard and hurt. "I live in the same room as them! There's no way they wouldn't know!"

"So, it's something you can see…but not all the time?" asked Jaune.

Ellie glared at him. Not her, 'I'm annoyed by your stupid questions' glare. And not her 'I'm extremely irritated right now' glare either.

This was her 'you'll back off now if you don't want to experience sudden and remorseless physical pain' glare. There was a certain metal in her sapphire eyes when she was that angry. A metal that Jaune did not dare to ignore.

He waved his open hands in front of him. "Sorry, sorry. None of my business."

He turned away from his sister and kept his gaze trained forward. Despite claiming that he recognized it was none of his business, he still could not help but to wonder what secret Ellie treasured so much. And how had she kept it from him for so long? They lived together on a boat! Was he the only one out of the loop? Or were Crystal and Aren the only ones in said loop?

What was it concerning? Was it something Ellie did at some point? Or, rather, something she did regularly? Was it even an action at all?

Had he witnessed this secret before—but never realized it was a secret?

Or had it, somehow, been shielded from his view all this time?

Silence reigned between the pseudo-siblings for a few moments. Jaune was in deep thought. Ellie seemed much the same.

Ellie was the first to break the quiet. "Do you really want to know?"

Jaune answered immediately as he turned towards her. "More than anything."

Ellie wouldn't meet his eyes. "Okay, I'll show you. You have to promise not to laugh."

Jaune raised his right hand. "I swear it."

"I'm serious Jaune, no laughing. Got it?"

"I won't laugh, I promise."

Ellie looked at him. She looked at him long and hard. Her gaze traveled from his forehead down his cheeks to his lips—searching for some hint of deception. Finding none, she nodded, more to herself than him it seemed. She stood. Her face darkened more, to the point where her pigment was comparable to that of a tomato.

"Alright, I'll show you."

Jaune watched, entranced, as his slender friend untucked her white shirt from her brown trousers. She straightened out the wrinkles in her clothes with a few quick swipes. Next, she turned, revealing her back. Then she grabbed the hem of her shirt and began to lift, revealing a milky expanse of pale skin and—

"What are you doing!?" Jaune practically shouted, turning away and, redundantly, covering his eyes.

Ellie span, dropping her shirt and hissing, "you said you wanted to see!"

"What are you about to do!?" exclaimed Jaune.

"You two aren't having a make-out make-up session out there, are you?" cried Crystal from the depths of her dressing room.

Ellie's embarrassed expression faded in favor of irritation; there was less color in her cheeks and more fire in her eyes.

She grabbed Jaune's hand—the same one he was using to obscure his vision—and tugged him to his feet.

"Come on."

Jaune followed Ellie. He always followed Ellie. Since the moment he had woken up in that bed with her at his side he had followed her. He had followed her on adventures on foreign islands. He had followed her on adventures aboard _The Merchant's Boon_.

He had a strong feeling that this was one of those times where he shouldn't follow—considering the ominous nature of the last few seconds—but…

Well, following Ellie just felt natural.

Maybe too natural?

But then…

Jaune's train of thought derailed, fell off a bridge, and exploded on the rocks below when Ellie released his hand and Jaune realized where she had brought him.

They were in an unoccupied dressing room. Just he and Ellie. Alone. And Ellie was closing the door.

Jaune took a step back. And then he felt wall.

He realized just how small this room was.

Ellie turned towards him. "Crystal won't bother us in here."

Jaune needed to say something. He needed to ask what was going on. He needed to ask why the hell she had dragged him in here. He needed to ask…

"You…we…why…um…?"

"Just shut up for a second Jaune."

Jaune was happy to oblige that particular request—since he seemed incapable of human speech at the moment anyway.

With little ceremony Ellie turned away from him and reached for the edge of her shirt.

Jaune tried to stop her. The words were on the surface of his tongue. His hands were open and ready to reach out towards her.

But his voice was absent, and his limbs were frozen.

There was that milky expanse, again.

It was with a petrified fascination that Jaune watched Ellie gather her shirt in one hand and pull down on the waistline of her trousers with the other. He wasn't sure where he should look as the girl exposed more skin. There were a few freckles. A birth mark. A furry nub…

A furry nub?

Jaune's eyes found one very particular part of Ellie's body to focus on, just a few inches above the curvature of her…well…the beginning of where Jaune would start to have some real… difficulties with her stripping.

For a moment, he wasn't sure what he was looking at. Was it a piece of fuzz, stuck to her skin? Was it a small furry creature, that had made its home in Ellie's clothes?

Was it…?

Jaune watched the appendage twitch. His hand flew to his mouth, suppressing the smile he knew was forming. "Is that a tail?"

Ellie nodded. It was a small motion. Barely visible.

So, it seemed Cece, Mist, and Crystal weren't the only Arc girls with Faunus features. Jaune wasn't sure how to feel about that.

On the one hand, he thought the Arc sisters' Faunus traits were adorable. Like, the cutest attributes he'd ever seen on human beings. Cece was already a four-foot-tall trove of charm without her animalistic features. The tail just combined her adorableness as a little girl with the cuteness of a puppy—which created an effect that was, altogether, greater than the sum of its parts.

So, that was on one hand.

On the other, he was curious why he'd been kept in the dark for…was it three years now? He loved the Arcs, all of them. Willow, Crystal, Mist, Cece—he'd never displayed an ounce of disdain for their heritage—because there wasn't an ounce of disdain within him. Not for Faunus that was—unless they were pirates—and certainly not for his newfound family.

Hell, if the Arcs revealed to him tomorrow that they were secretly pirates he'd probably…

Well he'd probably get himself fitted for a hook.

So why, on god's good Remnant, had Ellie decided to keep him in the dark about this?

Was it because of the location of her tail? Was it—

Jaune refocused on the ocean of skin mostly above and a little below her tiny tail.

Ah.

The location probably had…a lot to do with it.

But why hadn't the other girls ever mentioned the tail?

Sure, Ellie was embarrassed about it, clearly. But had a little thing like embarrassment ever stopped Crystal from poking fun at her sorry victims?

"Why is it so small?" asked Jaune.

Ellie looked at him over her shoulder. Her face was redder than her neck.

Jaune had never seen an expression like that on the fiercest of the Arc girls. It wasn't irritation. It wasn't anger.

It was pure humiliation.

No wonder even Crystal stayed away from this one.

You'd have to be a sadist to enjoy that face.

Ellie's voice was unusual. Her tone was too high. And her timbre…she was wailing more than she was speaking.

"I-I don't know! It's always been this way! I used to think it would grow but…" she trailed off.

Jaune watched the appendage twitch and sway. It was so small, so short. It hardly looked like a tail—but its seemingly random movements response to Ellie's mood was just like Cece's.

Jaune had the indescribable urge to touch it. He stopped himself before his fingers could feel fur. "Can I touch it?"

"What!?" Ellie squealed, dropped her shirt, and turned towards him.

Jaune fought off a wave of disappointment when the stub disappeared. Although, there was something… pleasant about seeing Ellie so red-faced and out-of-sorts. Jaune wasn't sure what he enjoyed about it or why—but he was certain that there was some pleasure to be had.

"Can I touch it?" he repeated.

"Why?" asked Ellie, eyes narrowed.

"Because I want to feel it," said Jaune.

Ellie gripped the bottom of her shirt tightly, as if at any moment the boy she had proclaimed to be her brother might attempt to tear the article off her. "What kind of reason is that?"

Jaune had to consider that question for a moment.

What kind of reason was it? He just…

Well he just wanted to touch it. Was that so wrong?

He decided to switch tracks. "Won't you like it?"

Ellie stared at him, unblinking, the blood in her cheeks still refusing to drain.

Jaune forged ahead. "Cece loves it when I pet her tail. And whenever I ask your mom why Cece likes her tail spoiled she says, 'because it's like kissing a scar…if that scar was a bundle of nerves.'" Jaune wasn't sure what that last part meant…but he understood the first. It was about accepting and showing affection towards the part of her that was different.

The part of her that was special.

One of Ellie's hands flew to her actual scar, the one Jaune had given her the day they met. The pale white line, curved across her face, was a constant reminder of how much he owed the boyish girl who had spotted him, adrift in the sea.

"It's _like_ kissing a scar!" Jaune reiterated, giving 'like' a bit more emphasis, lest he come off any creepier than he already was for desiring to touch her tail.

After a moment of silence Ellie replied. Her voice was so quiet, nervous, and subdued that Jaune could barely hear her words. Her azure eyes were glued to the corners of their sockets, her gaze averted towards anything that wasn't Jaune.

"I think I'd prefer you start with that."

Jaune's mind lagged for a second.

Start with what?

Kissing a scar?

Kissing _her_ scar?

Jaune was beaten to a gasp by a distinctly feminine voice just outside their dressing room door. That sound of shock was quickly followed by a hasty shush but it was too little too late.

Ellie grabbed the door's handle, throwing it open.

In her defense, Aren looked somewhat abashed. Crystal, however, was as remorseless as ever.

"Aren! They were so close! I mean, I don't want Ellie to become a woman before I do—so that's bad—but, still, why couldn't you stay quiet until they started making out?"

Aren didn't pay Crystal any mind. Her focus was instead on Ellie, who's red face was, more likely than not, transforming from embarrassment to fury. "S-sorry."

Crystal remained unrepentant. "I'm sorry too. This is my fault. All those times telling you two to get a room—and I never specified that it should be a private room. I'm a failure as a big sister. And—"

"Crystal!" Ellie's screech interrupted her older sister's smug spiel.

"Yes?" answered Crystal.

"I'm telling mom and dad about the rat!"

Crystal's smile vanished like smoke in the wind. "But I didn't tell Jaune about your tail! You did! And Aren's the one who brought it up!"

Ellie turned her glare on Aren.

Aren, wisely, bowed her head and clasped her hands together. "I didn't do it to be funny. It was an honest mistake. Crystal is the one who thought it was hilarious. I'm actually sorry."

"Are you groveling!?" cried Crystal. "You need to help me talk Ellie down! If she tells mom and dad about the rat that could start a secrets war. No one wins from that!"

A secrets war? Jaune mused. It sounded interesting. Since these girls were his sisters now…shouldn't he learn everything he could about them?

He already knew this rat story. After all, he'd been a part of it…

But what if there were more tails?

"Jaune, you better wipe that smug look off your face! I've got dirt on you too!"

Jaune rolled his eyes at Crystal's threat.

What dirt could she possibly have on him that everyone else in the Arc family didn't already know full well? Jaune couldn't remember his past. The Arc's didn't know his past. And he'd lived his life as an open book since his arrival. Crystal didn't have a leg to stand on.

"I saw you the yesterday morning. You were in your room and you..."

Jaune's hand flew toward Crystal's mouth before he even told it too. His voice was nervous as he spoke. "W-what does anyone gain from a secrets war? I think we should just let things lie…?"

Ellie turned narrowed eyes on him. "Jaune, what is _your_ secret?"

"Well…" Jaune looked from Ellie to Crystal. One's eyes were questioning and suspicious. The other one's were amused and victorious. Jaune glanced between the girls several times. He was terrible at lying—but never had a lie seemed so necessary.

After a few more seconds, Jaune decided upon the only reasonable course of action. He edged out of the dressing room, hand still pressed firmly to Crystal mouth. He could feel her grin underneath his palm.

When he'd cleared the doorway, he released Crystal's mouth, only to wrap his arms around her waist. In one smooth motion he hoisted the girl over his shoulder.

Crystal…Ellie…Aren… they were all too stunned to speak.

Then Jaune took off down the hall, dodging dresses and the other women in the area.

Crystal burst into laughter and cheers, taunting Ellie as she, 'made her escape.' She sounded as if she was having a blast.

"Jaune!"

Ellie's enraged tone as she called after them was significantly less amused.

*l*l*

Jaune felt ill.

That was nothing new. He had seasickness. It only got worse during a big storm. The subtler motions of the ocean were already enough to make Jaune nauseas but add to it the plummeting sensations of ascending and descending the larger swells of an angrier sea…?

Jaune was just glad his stomach was empty.

Of course, Jaune's upset stomach was only a part of his ongoing struggle.

In fact, Jaune's sickness was, possibly, the smallest part of his distress.

His thoughts were the real problem. Questions were grating his brain, manifesting in a throbbing headache, as he attempted to contemplate, to imagine, to fathom, how the crew of the _Ambling Rose_ could know so little about sailing.

How could they be so far out in deeper seas? How could they look so nonplussed? How could they be so… alive?

Did ignorant people set out on the high seas?

Of course.

But what happened to them?

They died.

They capsized and drowned…

They ran out of drinking water…

They were sunk by pirates…

They were eaten by monsters…

Without fail, fools who had never learned to respect the ocean, who set forth on these majestic waters without the skill and knowledge necessary to dance with the deluge, to curry favor with the currents…

They were all met with a well-deserved death.

Every. Single. One of. Them.

Jaune had seen it once—a dead ship, a corpse crew, succumbed to hunger and fatigue, the result of losing their way in one of the greater expanses of ocean.

And his father had warned him of those seamen nightmares long before he'd had the opportunity to witness one.

It had all served as motivation for him.

Motivation to master the art of sailing.

Now he was watching the least competent crew—perhaps of all time. How long had they been on the water? How long had they traveled together, incapable of hoisting a sail or reading a map?

Too long.

However long they'd been successful, it was too long.

The _Ambling Rose_ should have sunk the day she left her first harbor.

Hell, she should have sunk _in_ her first harbor. It hardly seemed as if her crew should have found their way out of a port.

Yet here they were, in the Devil's Triangle...

It had been a real head-scratcher, a persistent nagging in the back of Jaune's skull as he struggled to save Captain Ruby's dying ship for the better part of an hour.

The events of the past hour had transpired like this…

The broken mast had fallen in an unfortunate manner—not that a broken mast could ever be considered a fortunate event. But the way the _Ambling Rose's_ had snapped was…particularly distressing.

It had started to fall forward, as one would expect of a mast snapped by excessive wind. The forward motion was preferable to any other in Jaune's opinion. It had the least chance of critically harming the ship.

But, of course, in keeping with Jaune's luck, at the moment of breakage a rogue swell struck the side of _Ambling Rose_ , turning her into the wind. Her mast twisted as wind struck the side of the sails, causing the massive trunk to topple to the left. The transition had taken place in slow motion for Jaune, the rotating pillar of wood crashing into the portside of the ship.

A mast that fell to the side was more likely to damage the keel, the spine of the ship. A cracked keel was the beginning of a likely death in the calmest of waters. In a colossal storm like this one? In the midst of the Devil's Triangle?

If their keel took any damage they were done.

A crack would be exacerbated by the pounding waves.

And a full break would be accompanied by a rush of water that would have the ship on the bottom of the ocean in five minutes—possibly less.

Jaune had not had the chance to go below and check on the state of the keel. He was too busy manning the helm—but he assumed, since they were still afloat, that the keel must have been fine—or at least not _too_ damaged.

The real problem, for now, was how far down the mast had torn through the ship upon landing. It had plowed through the railing and several feet past the deck, exposing the interior portions of the ship to the elements. Fortunately, the tear didn't descend to a portion of the ship that was frequently underwater but between the rain, the ship's constant rocking, and the occasional swells that came from the sides there was still plenty of water slipping inside.

Jaune had screamed that someone needed to go bail water. To his horror, the insane pink one had volunteered—and all the rest seemed comfortable leaving the critical job in her hands. And her hands alone.

Did they not understand that too much water inside the ship would throw off its balance when it was hit by angled swells?

Did they not realize the _Ambling Rose_ would flip long before she would sink?

Did they know nothing about sailing?

When Jaune told them to get rid of the mast—since it was just weighing them down at this point—the yellow one, Yang, kicked it.

She did not unbind the sails from their riggings. She did not wait for the others to help lift the massive piece of wood out of its divot. Her golden hair glowed bright for a moment—almost as if it were alight—and then she launched the half-ton chunk of debris into the ocean.

The ship groaned as the ropes attached to the mass and sails ripped out chunks of wood and metal—and the gaping wound in _Ambling Rose's_ side elongated as the great beam slid along it.

Was it an incredible and terrifying feat of strength?

Yes.

Could she have waited a few seconds and accepted some help so that her incredible feat of strength didn't doom them all further?

No, apparently not.

That was when Jaune began to feel the ship begin to tilt—a sure sign that they were taking in water—lots of it.

Nora had then reappeared, reporting that she couldn't bail out all the water—because it wasn't just coming in from the gap torn by the mast. It was also bubbling in from a crack down the center of the ship.

A crack down the center of the ship meant a damaged keel.

That meant the ship would be near inoperable soon. Jaune glanced at the ship's two sides, searching for lifeboats.

In keeping with Jaune Arc's fortune, there were none to be found.

Jaune surveyed the pirates who _should_ have been the ones working frantically to save their ship. The black-haired girl was huddled under a tarp, doing her best to stay dry. Ren, the only other man aboard the craft, appeared to be calming Nora, who was ranting and raving about something or other. The Captain, Ruby was whispering with her first-mate, Weiss Schnee, who had abandoned her initial angelic appearance for the wet, dirty, and angry look that, for some reason, suited her less than it did all the rest. Yang was…well it was a mixture of strutting around looking impressed with herself over the way she had displaced their fallen mast and guffawing over terrible weather puns. Pyrrha. Lovely beautiful Pyrrha. She was the only useful one in the crew. She was at his side, assisting him with turning the wheel and keeping it steady.

None of them.

Not even Pyrrha.

Had so much as an ounce of respect for their situation. There was no fear. There was no brevity. Just a general sense of glum camaraderie.

Jaune's acceptance came fast and without warning.

He was going back into the soup.

Wasn't he?

It was in that moment of realization that Jaune gave up trying to save the _Ambling Rose_.

He released the wheel and glanced at the confused redhead next to him. She had the most incredible green eyes. He had seen them before, on a man, from an island in the Mistralian sea.

Was she a member of that warrior race?

He supposed it was possible. But wasn't she just a bit too…? What was the word he was looking for?

Kind?

He'd only exchanged a few words with her and watched her for a few minutes. But she'd seemed patient when dealing with Ruby. And she had a smile that seemed almost…maternal in nature.

From what Jaune had learned from that red-haired green-eyed man the Nikos tribe were a… _violent_ people.

And that was a healthy understatement.

"The ship's going down. There's nothing else I can do," he shouted.

Jaune wasn't sure what he expected from the girl. Horror? Tears? Anger? To be thrown overboard for _his_ supposed incompetence? The possible responses ranged from normal to downright sadistic.

The one he received was neither. She patted his shoulder and gave him a warm smile—well as warm a smile one could give in the dark during a torrential downpour. "You did admirably Jaune," she shouted. "You performed better than any of us could have done!"

Was she trying to comfort him?

Pyrrha turned away, shouting louder and across the deck, "Ruby! Jaune says the ship is going down!"

Ruby shouted a few more words into Weiss's ear—words Jaune could not make out over the roar of the wind, rain, and waves. The captain then vanished in a blur of red. She reappeared at Jaune's side. She patted him on the back, much harder than Pyrrha—but still just as friendly. "Too bad Jaune! You were awesome though! We don't normally last this long after the ship starts to fall apart!" Ruby spared her dilapidating vessel a quick forlorn glance. Her expression was something akin to dismay—if the bubbly pirate was even capable of such a negative emotion. "I had such high hopes for the _Ambling Rose mark four_!"

"Did you say _mark 4_?" repeated Jaune.

Ruby nodded. "Yep, she's our fourth ship! And she lasted the longest too! How long have we had her Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha winced. She shot Jaune a pained look, clearly a little more conscious of how inept this all sounded.

"Three months?" Pyrrha suggested.

Jaune gaped. They had lost three ships before this? _Three_!? And they didn't think to pack freakin' lifeboats!?

How did they survive each wreck? Did they just float on debris as Jaune had the past two days? Except they did so by choice? What the hell kind of pirate crew was this?

Ruby patted the steering wheel, wearing a wistful smile. "Yep, she's served us well!" She leapt backwards with a small "eep!" when the wheel began to spin on its own. The currents below were having a field day with the ships rudder now that neither he nor Pyrrha were holding the device steady.

"Guess I'll go give the order," shouted the girl.

Jaune watched Ruby zip back to Weiss. It was difficult to make out precisely what was happening since so many of the ships lanterns had gone out but Jaune could see enough to know that the two exchanged words and then Ruby disappeared. The captain reappeared a few seconds later with a long thin silver blade. She handed said blade to her first-mate. And then…

Well…

And then Weiss jumped overboard.

Jaune stared at the space where the pale girl had stood but a moment ago. He replayed the scene in his mind several times, the moment she had placed her hands lightly on the ship railing and vaulted into the raging sea.

What the hell was throwing herself into the sea suppose to accomplish? Was it some sort of weight reduction tactic? How much could that slight girl weigh—at max?

One-hundred pounds? If that?

It was a ludicrous solution to their straits. Her bodyweight or lack thereof would make no difference to their plight.

How could it?

Jaune suffered from a short internal struggle. Should he shout, "man overboard?" It was what one was supposed to shout when a member of the crew or a passenger fell into the ocean. And it was especially important when the ocean was as rough as this. A few seconds was the difference between hauling a friend to safety and leaving them to the ocean's mercies. But the circumstances here were a little…different.

Everyone had seen Weiss go into the drink. Thus, there was no one who needed to be alerted.

And she hadn't fallen—that's how it usually went. She had jumped, purposefully.

Plus, it hadn't been purely of her own volition. It looked as if she jumped on the captain's orders.

But…why…?

Jaune stumbled forward when the ship lurched. He braced himself on the wheel.

What the hell was that?

It almost felt as if the ship had run aground. But that was impossible. They were in the middle of the Devil's Triangle. There wasn't an island for miles in any direction. Plus, Jaune hadn't heard it. The grinding noise of wood on sand. So, they hadn't run aground but…

Jaune focused on the sensation in his stomach. The rising and falling was one. There was still some gentle rocking and that was still enough to make him feel queasy, but, overall, the sea felt gentler.

Jaune looked up.

The storm still raged above. Why was the water calming then? And what was that lurch? He shot Pyrrha a confused look.

Pyrrha replied with a questioning smile, as if she was more confused by his confusion than she was by the motion of the ship.

Was it possible they had run up on some kind of…soft spongey reef? That would explain the lurch and the lack of noise…

But in waters like these the bottom should be at least a few hundred feet below. So…

Jaune ran to the side of the ship. He leaned over the railing.

He was confused by what he found.

White.

Was it land? No, it couldn't be. It was too glossy. Too smooth.

It was ice. But not just a little ice. It wasnt the small film of ice that developed around ships when sailing through Atlesian waters. This extended ten or fifteen feet off the side of the ship.

And it was growing.

The lurching sensation hadn't been caused by the ocean calming. But by _Ambling Rose_ losing all contact with the sea. Jaune's eyes swept from the left to the right. There was Weiss, glowing—actually glowing—with a pale white light. She had driven her blade a foot into the ice, her hands rested on the hilt, her posture erect.

Jaune ran to the back side of the ship, leaning over the lateral railing. Like the right side, the ice extended another fifteen, growing thicker and denser with every passing second.

Jaune worked his jaw in stiff wonder.

He turned back towards the front of the ship, just in time to watch Ruby hop off, shouting praise for her first mate.

Weiss seemingly ignored Ruby's affection, keeping her eyes trained downwards.

She _might_ have been smiling.

But, then again, Jaune could have imagined it. He _definitely_ could have imagined it.

Hell.

He was probably hallucinating.

*l*l*

Jaune glanced around the circle surrounding the flames.

In several hands, including his own, was a metal rod with a pointed end and a wooden handle. Stabbed on those sticks were various foods.

Blake had three smallish fish. Nora was working on a second sausage. Ren and Pyrrha were both roasting apples. Ruby had marshmallows—as many as could fit on her pronged stick. Yang was eating an apple raw and Weiss claimed not to be hungry—although Ruby had already stated she planned to force a couple of marshmallows into her.

Jaune, for his part, was roasting a sausage. His stomach still felt upset but, at this point, he wasn't sure if that was because of his hunger or the remaining motion caused by the storm.

He cleared his throat when there was a lull in conversation. "So…you guys keep firewood on the ship huh?"

"Yep!" replied Ruby.

"And every time a giant storm destroys your ship. You put it on top of an ice sheet the size of a small island…then you grab some coats, come out here, put down some rugs, build a…" Jaune looked around the ice structure surrounding them and at the makeshift chimney above. What would one call something like this?

Weiss filled in the blank. "…igloo."

"igloo…and a bonfire," Jaune continued. "And then you just…hang out and see where the storm takes you?"

"Aren't we the coolest pirates ever!?" cheered Nora, juice from the sausage she had just roasted over the open flames flew from her mouth, popping in the fire.

Jaune pretended he hadn't heard the girl's question.

"It's inaccurate to say I put _Ambling Rose_ on _top_ of an ice _sheet_ …" explained Weiss. "Rather, I put an ice _-berg_ _under_ the _Ambling Rose_. An ice _sheet_ is too thin. It would break apart under the weight of the ship and the stress of the storm. There is far too much risk of capsizing. You'll notice how subdued our motion is now. We're hardly affected by the storm. That's because so much of the iceberg is underwater… Unlike ships, that need to keep most of their bulk above the surface, icebergs can float while extending several hundred feet below. That's because of the nature of the relationship between ice and water—"

Jaune didn't mean to cut her off, the question just slipped out. He already knew that ice floated. Even big chunks. What he really wanted to know was…

"Why isn't the ice melting?"

He motioned to the ice that comprised the ground—and the ice that made up the chimney above. Sure, the ice looked a little drippy. But considering the size of the fire they had built—and that the interior of their makeshift shelter was constructed from ice their surroundings were surprisingly dry.

Yang chipped in before Weiss could offer a prolonged explanation. "That's because Weiss has spent an obnoxious amount of time figuring out every single little thing she can do with her semblance."

"Only you could turn hard-work and mastery into a vice Xiao-Long."

"What was that about obsessive compulsion Ice-Queen?"

"For the last time you, brain-dead brute! I. Do. Not. Have. O.C.D."

"You sure?" Yang leaned backwards, extending a burning finger.

Jaune watched as she dragged the digit across the icy wall behind her, yellow flames licking her skin. She drew two equal lines in the ice and then a third, half the length of the other two.

Weiss stared at the three lines for a moment. She turned away. "A Schnee, cannot be broken by such trivialities."

Yang gave Jaune a wink. "Give it a bit."

Jaune wasn't sure how to respond to that. So, he didn't.

"Jaune," Pyrrha nudged him.

Jaune whipped his head to the left, startled.

"Your meat is getting rather dark."

"My meat is…?"

What was she…?

Jaune jerked his stick away from the fire as he finally processed Pyrrha's clear warning. She was right. He had held his sausage a little close to the fire. There was no way to tell how cooked the meat was on the inside. But the outside was already charred.

It wasn't how Jaune preferred it—but given how long it had been since he had last eaten…

He had a feeling that as soon as it cooled enough for consumption it would be the best thing he had ever tasted.

"Thank you."

Pyrrha smiled and returned her attention to her sizzling apple.

As he waited for his sausage to cool, Jaune observed the crew and their ongoing conversations.

Ren, Pyrrha, and Blake seemed happy enough to sit quietly. But Yang would engage Blake with questions—to which the black-haired beauty answered as concisely as possible. Ren was ripped from his serenity by Nora mercilessly. And Weiss looked to Pyrrha as a fellow voice of reason as she dealt with her less straitlaced comrades.

Yang, for her part, was a constant supply of humor or—at least—she certainly thought so of herself. Ruby was a fountain of energy. Nora was a source of endless eccentricity. And Weiss…well…Weiss was a little harder to place. There was a word for people like her. Cold, exterior, with a surprising warmth and depth evident in the ways they interacted with those they were close to…

For the life of him though, Jaune couldn't remember that word.

What letter did it start with?

'S?'

'T?'

Huh. Anyway, the crew's interaction felt familiar. It instilled a forlorn sensation in his belly. It felt…familial.

Like the Arcs.

It was easy to forget that the crew of the _Ambling Rose_ were pirates. Their inability to sail and explicit kindness and easygoing camaraderie certainly seemed to belie the claim…

But what reason would they have to lie about which side of the law they preferred?

Jaune touched his food. It was still hot but not scalding.

Could it still burn his tongue?

Potentially.

But he was done waiting.

He could save his questions about the crew for a later time.

As expected, the sausage was delicious. The inside was a little too bloody. And the outside was a little too blackened. But it was second only to the first meal he'd eaten after he'd been welcomed on _The Merchant's Boon_.

He might have tucked into his food a little to voraciously. When he finished his sausage Pyrrha promptly offered him her apple. Admittedly, the fruit smelled delicious but Jaune declined it. He wasn't about to start stealing food off his benefactor's lips.

His mother would have had his head.

Pyrrha's eyes narrowed when he refused her offer. She asked him when was the last time he ate. Jaune reluctantly told her it had been two days.

He answered her as quietly as he could but, somehow, Blake heard him. Out of nowhere, she offered him her fish—all three of them. The rest of the crew stared at her as if she'd developed momentary insanity. Then she explained what she had overheard.

Suddenly, Jaune was swamped with offers of food.

It was an odd mixture. Fish, meat, apples, marshmallows...but Jaune was incapable of resisting their insistence. He partially accepted each offer, taking a single fish from Blake, half an apple from Ren, half an apple from Pyrrha, a whole sausage from Nora—because she refused to let him take anything less—and a healthy serving of marshmallows from Ruby.

The pirate captain looked as if she couldn't have been happier giving away her precious sweets. And no one else seemed to begrudge him their snack...

Were these really pirates?

"You should slow down," recommended Weiss. "Eating at that rate after two days of hunger? You'll make yourself ill."

Jaune adhered to Weiss's sound advice through sheer force of will. He wanted nothing more than to continue stuffing his face. But she was right.

Considering his regular seasickness, she was even more right than she could possibly know.

It was uncomfortable eating so many other people's food in silence, with so many eyes on him, so Jaune asked the question that had been burning a hole in his throat for a while now.

"Are you guys really pirates?"

Every face in the room turned towards Ruby when he asked his question. Jaune followed their gazes straight into two peerless silver orbs. Goddamnit, did those eyes shine!

"Oh boy," said Yang.

"Here we go again," muttered Weiss.

Jaune glanced at the two of them before his attention was drawn back to Ruby.

"Jaune," began the captain. She pushed herself up to standing, her boot-clad feet crunching against the ice. Her voice was a lower than it had been before and more forceful. Something in those moonlike eyes glinted with the promise of violence. "What do you mean 'are you guys really pirates?'"

Jaune's voice caught in his throat. Had asking, perhaps, been a mistake?

"W-well it's just...you all don't strike me as—"

Ruby interrupted him—and from her words it was clear she wasn't listening to a word he said. Without warning she hung her head in dejection. "Do you really not know us...we're wanted you know...we're not the most wanted or anything...but we're a little wanted..."

"Huh?" Was all Jaune managed to choke out before Ruby was suddenly upon him.

"Look a little closer!"

Jaune fell backwards as Ruby practically crawled atop him. That glint he had mistaken as the threat of violence was actually the beginning of tears and a fierce pout.

"I have my own wanted poster! There are never that many copies up on the islands we visit—and I've never been on the Navy priority board... but I'm still no small-fry! Think hard! You've seen me before, right?"

Ruby adopted a strange face. She stuck out her tongue, closed one eye, and held her hand to her brow as if she was peering into heavy sunlight.

It took Jaune a moment to realize that she was enacting her best approximation of the image on her wanted poster and waiting for him to answer her question.

He glanced at the two girls who had maneuvered directly behind Ruby. They were both peering at him over her shoulders. Yang was nodding her head vigorously. Weiss, conversely, was shaking her head rigidly.

Jaune decided to go with the answer that seemed as if it would hurt the excitable captain least. "Yeah, now that you mention it...You do look familiar."

Yang grinned, giving him two thumbs-up. Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, grimacing. Ruby's expression transformed twice in a relatively short time period. At first, she just looked ecstatic to be recognized.

But that pure joy soon transformed into something else.

She pushed herself off Jaune as if it had been the most natural thing in the world to tackle him for answers in the first place. She turned to her first-mate. "I _told_ you Weiss. We'll be just as notorious as the pirate-lords before long!"

"Ruby," said Weiss, with just a hint of impatience. "The pirate-lords rule entire island chains. One random castaway recognizing you is _not_ a sign that you are reaching their levels of notoriety. Besides, Jaune clearly lied."

Ruby scoffed. "Jaune wouldn't lie to me!" She spun. "Right Jaune!?"

Jaune coughed into his hand. Lying wasn't his forte. But he could pull this off.

Couldn't he?

"N-no _way_."

Damn it.

Had he even met her eyes?

"Jaune! How could you!?" Ruby wailed. "Give me back my marshmallows of friendship!"

"Ruby."

The room quieted at the sound of Ren's calm voice.

Jaune had the distinct impression that he was the type of guy who didn't speak much—but when he did people listened.

"Has it occurred to you that, perhaps, it was your marshmallows of friendship that led Jaune to lie—in an effort to protect his newfound friend's feelings?"

The group stared at him for a few seconds, absorbing his insight.

Ruby broke the silence first. She covered her ears. "Don't use your Icky-Tricky Devil's Tongue ability on me!"

"My what?" questioned Ren, leveling a narrow-eyed gaze at Nora.

Nora held up two open palms defensively. "You said I could help you pick out a name for your ability!"

"And you interpreted that to mean you should name it on your own and share that name with everyone else?"

"That's right!" replied Nora shamelessly.

"I see," said Ren without so much as a hint of anger.

Jaune marveled at the boy's indifference.

"Aw. Ren don't be upset!" Nora wrapped a muscular arm around his neck. "I don't think it's caught on yet!"

"Don't _lie_ Nora," said Yang. "You know I.T.D.T is here to stay. Just like Pyrrha's..."

"Yang..." said Pyrrha. Her voice had hints of a warning to it.

Yang pushed through. " _Babe Magnet_."

"Yang!" Pyrrha shouted.

"Are you all semblance users?" Jaune cut in.

The _Ambling Rose_ crew turned towards Jaune as one, as if they were just now remembering that there was a stranger among them.

"Are you assessing our weaknesses for a one-man takeover?"

Jaune turned towards Blake. Her yellow eyes bore into him.

He wasn't sure what to say.

Fortunately, Yang spoke before he had to. "Oh! Kitty's got jokes!"

Was that what that was? A joke?

Upon a closer look Jaune could see a glimmer in Blake's eye.

It seemed the girl had Paige's sense of humor. One never really knew when the youngest Arc twin might throw out a joke. She preferred to bury her nose in a book and observe rather than comment. But beneath Paige's quiet exterior she hid a wicked wit that came out to play unexpectedly. It could be difficult to tell if she was, indeed, joking.

He smiled.

It was Ruby who answered Jaune's question.

"Yep, we've all got semblances Jaune."

"Really...?" Jaune drifted off as he looked at each one of them.

"Yep. Ren's got his Icky-Tricky Devil's Tongue ability—"

"Objection," interrupted Ren.

"Overruled," continued Ruby. "Nora can control electricity and lightning. Yang can set herself on fire and she gets stronger and... I think she's fireproof... right? You're fireproof right Yang? You're always bursting into flames but you're not a burnt skeleton, so you must be fireproof right?"

Yang stuck her hand into the open flames. "Don't feel a thing."

Jaune stared at the unmolested hand in the flames. "Do you have nerve damage?"

Yang paused for a moment before grinning. "Okay, I feel something. It just doesn't hurt."

" _Anyway_ ," continued Ruby. "Yang bursts into flames, Blake's a cat ninja—"

"What's a cat ninja?" Jaune interrupted.

Ruby exchanged a quick glance with Blake. When she turned back around she was laughing and scratching her head. "Right, I forgot, not a cat ninja. Just a regular ninja for now."

"Wh—"

The young captain kept moving. "Weiss and Pyrrha are always competing to see whose semblance is strongest."

"We're currently tied," said Weiss with a grin and upturned chin.

"Oh?" replied Jaune. He glanced at Pyrrha.

After seeing what Weiss could do, a semblance anywhere near as strong as hers was impressive.

"That's amazing."

Pyrrha shrugged. "Thank you."

She didn't seem quite as excited as Weiss about the comparison of their strength. In fact, all Jaune could say for sure was that she seemed to tolerate it.

Was that because she didnt like the idea that there was someone as strong as her? Or, did she not enjoy the act of comparing numbers?

"Come on guys, let me finish," whined Ruby. "You already know Weiss can make ice—"

This time Weiss interrupted her. "I can affect the rate of particle oscillation—allowing me to solidify and liquify various—"

"He gets it Ice-queen. He doesn't need the full run down."

Weiss glared daggers at Yang.

Jaune didn't voice his opinion. But he wouldn't have minded insight into their abilities' innerworkings. Especially Yang's. The fireproof thing was interesting as hell.

"Hey!" Ruby shouted loud enough to draw all attention to herself. "Will you let me finish!?"

She paused, waiting to see if her crew would, indeed, allow her to finish. She turned back to Jaune.

"Where was I? Oh, right. Weiss can freeze stuff. Pyrrha can control metal. And I can move fast—and my eyes do some weird stuff too."

Ah.

Jaune understood now.

He understood how this crew could survive without an iota of nautical knowledge and without an ounce of respect for the ocean.

They all had a bunch of goddamn overpowered semblances.

Sure, none of them could keep a boat together in a storm.

But one of them could make an island of ice massive enough that Jaune barely felt seasick—despite a raging storm outside.

They didn't know to avoid monsters—but who cared when you could just call down lightning from above?

Rain could be collected for water—and for all he knew this ice could melt into drinkable water too. Blake seemed like she knew her way around a fishing rod—and a fish.

That was, drink, food, and staying above the surface—all taken care of.

Hell, the only thing this crew had left to worry about was finding their way to land.

Once they were there they could just steal a ship or threaten the locals into repairing theirs. Semblance users were rare—extraordinarily so. The chances of them running into one or two who were looking to stop them was slim.

The chances of them running into one or two who had powers of a similar caliber to controlling lightning, or metal, or the oscillation of particles...

The chances of that were practically none.

And the chances of them running into seven or eight semblance users with a spread of ability levels like theirs...

Well, if they didn't mess with a navy base or bandits or a powerful crew or the wrong legend's city they were practically invincible.

"How did you all unlock your semblances?" asked Jaune.

It was a fair question. There were reasons semblance users were so rare. As Jaune understood it, they were especially rare to see in young adults.

There were only three ways to become a semblance user—as far as Jaune knew. One was inheriting a hereditary semblance. Two was spending years training, meditating, and self-discovering to unlock a semblance. And three was eating an eye-opening candy—which were absurdly rare.

The crew members exchanged a few glances.

"I think...we prefer to keep how we achieved our semblances private..." said Pyrrha.

Jaune nearly smacked himself in the face. Of course they did. Why was he running his mouth, asking personal questions of a bunch of people he had just met?

"I don't!" announced Nora. "I ate an eye-opening candy. It tasted awful! Where'd you get your boat semblance?"

Jaune squinted. "I don't have a semblance."

"What!?" Nora roared jabbing a finger towards him. "You wheedled information on my semblance out of me but you won't share any about yourself?"

"Nora," said Ren. "You volunteered that information of your own volition."

"Did I?" Nora's eyes narrowed.

"Yes," assured Ren.

"Huh... That doesn't sound like me."

Even Ren didn't know how to handle that comment.

Weiss breezed by it. "Notwithstanding the pressing questions concerning Nora's self-perception. I believe it's high time you tell us about yourself Jaune. You clearly know your way around a boat—better than the rest of us at least. Are you a sailor?"

With every eye on him Jaune cleared his throat. He was a terrible liar.

And was there any point to lying? Sure, normally, telling his life story to a bunch a of pirates would be pretty high on his list of absolutely stupid ideas.

But these seemed like a pretty lax bunch.

Plus, he had nothing to lose. No wealth. No family. No friends.

He had nothing.

It was with the weight of that realization pressing on his shoulders that he began his story. He started on the night of the pirate attack. The night his father died, eviscerated by a beam of energy.

*l*l*

 _Ellie glanced from Jaune to her father and back again._

 _Jaune's eyes were locked on the floor, his cheeks red. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he kicked at the floor aimlessly._

 _Her father looked far less lost, but no less nervous._

 _Why had he called for her when he and Jaune were clearly in the middle of discussing something?_

 _"So... what is it?"_

 _Her father cleared his throat. "Well..." He trailed off and then he cleared his throat again. "I'm not even sure where to start."_

 _"The beginning," replied Ellie, crossing her arms._

 _"Well...the beginning..." Mathias looked upwards for a moment. "Yeah, the beginning, that's a good place to start. Are you aware of the discussions I and your mother have had with Jaune regarding him becoming an Arc?"_

 _"Sort of. You keep them hush-hush though. And that's the one thing I can never get Jaune to talk about." She levelled a glare towards her brother._

 _Jaune didn't see it. He was too busy studying the floor._

 _"Right, well, you're sixteen now. And I think it's about time you participate in this conversation. So we can clear it up once and for all."_

 _"Why does me turning sixteen, change anything?"_

 _"You'll understand that in a moment."_

 _"Okay," said Ellie, willing to wait for an explanation—but barely._

 _"Obviously, Jaune is a son to your mother and I in all but name."_

 _Ellie nodded._

 _"We've been discussing making Jaune an Arc for several years now. But there is always one… obstacle. One…belief that has stood in the way."_

 _"What?" questioned Ellie, her mind racing. What on god's blue Remnant could prevent her parent's from adopting Jaune? He loved them as if they were his own. And they loved him as their son—their only son. It certainly didn't seem like the kind of bond that much could grow between._

 _"Well, I'm just going to ask you straight-up. No beating around the bush. No lead-in."_

 _"Okay…" said Ellie again, urging her father onward. She glanced at Jaune. His eyes were still trained on the same part of the floor._

 _"Do you truly, absolutely, one-hundred-percent certainty, only see Jaune as your brother? Nothing more?"_

 _Ellie remained silent for a moment, digesting a question she had never expected to hear from her father. After a moment she spoke quietly, "what kind of question is that?" Anger bubbled in her stomach. She was accustomed to defending herself from this line of questioning from Crystal. But from her dad?_

 _He was about to receive a piece of her mind he would never forget._

 _"Not one I'll ever bother you with again," replied Mathias. "But one I definitely need the answer to."_

 _"Dad, Jaune's my little—"_

 _"Brother," cut off her father. "Yes, I know. And I'm fine with that. Your mother's fine with that. I'm certain that everyone is fine with that—except one." Mathias took a deep breath before continuing. "You. All I want to know is if you're fine with just being Jaune's sister."_

 _"Of course, I'm fine just being his sister," hissed Ellie, ignoring whatever that strange sensation building in her stomach was. "Because I am his sister!"_

 _"Sure, right. But are you perfectly fine with Jaune meeting another girl?"_

 _Ellie tried to interject a 'yes' but her father continued too quickly._

 _"Are you fine with him marrying her? Are you fine with not being as close to him as you've always been? Are you fine with surrendering your best friend to someone you hardly know? Are you fine with Jaune having babies with…or, excuse me, as your mother would say, having_ ** _pups_** _with some other girl? If you can look me in the eye and happily say yes to al that, then I swear it will be my greatest pleasure to never bring this up again. If not…then I think we need to have a conversation."_

 _Yes._

 _The word was in her mouth. She could taste it. She could feel its contours._

 _So why couldn't she speak it?_

 _Why was she hesitating?_

 _She couldn't afford to hesitate here._

 _This was her little brother!_

 _That was when she made the mistake of looking at Jaune. Even with his eyes trained down and his cheeks alight he looked…different from when they were children. He was nearly a foot taller than her now and he had grown muscular from hauling cargo, working on the ship, and practicing his swordsmanship—as hopeless of an endeavor as that seemed._

 _Somehow, she could see him in two phases._

 _As if he were flickering in two states, back and forth, a hundred times a second._

 _Part of her saw the boy her father had hauled out of the drink. The little boy she wanted to take care of forever._

 _The other part of her saw a man. A man who she told herself was just her brother…but who's hugs had somehow become her guilty pleasure._

 _She looked at him from top to bottom. His sun-kissed locks… His sharp jaw… His strong neck…_

 _A chest that was made for her head to rest upon…_

 _She imagined some other girl's head on his chest…_

 _It felt wrong. It felt like bile in her stomach._

 _It felt like something had been stolen from her._

 _She had noticed this a while back. This bitter feeling. Perhaps, on some level, she had known what it was._

 _But she continued to tell herself that she was just being overprotective._

 _Hard to convince herself of such with the intensity of her current feelings._

 _When she imagined some other woman locked with him in matrimonial bliss..._

 _When she pictured some other woman's hands on him…_

 _Stealing his first kiss_

 _Giggling at his, inevitably cute moans._

 _Giving him his first…_

 _Ellie could feel panic setting in as she turned back to her father_

 _She just wanted the best for Jaune, didn't she? When had that turned into wanting Jaune?_

 _Oh god. He was her little brother. He was her closest friend. What was she supposed to do with these feelings? What would they do to their relationship?_

 _Her eyes felt wet. Great. Now she was about to turn into a sobbing mess._

 _Her father sighed, scratching his head. "Looks like Willow the fortune teller was right again. You're reacting the same way Jaune always does when Willow brings teases him about you. He just hems and haws and blushes. Jaune!"_

 _Jaune looked up for the first time. His face was red. He peeked at her. Ellie searched for something else to look at._

 _"I'm tired of you not having a last name Jaune," said Mathias. "I don't know exactly how old you are, but_ _you're_ _looking like more of a man these days. And Ellie's a year away from womanhood. Speak now or forever hold your piece. Do you want me to adopt you at the next port of call with a government building, making you two official brother and sister? Or should we call an engagement right here and plan the wedding for next year? And we'll just get a headstart calling you Jaune_ ** _Arc_** _from here on out?"_

 _Ellie gaped at her father throughout his speech, trying to decide between rage and horror._

 _Had Jaune ever shown any kind of interest in her outside of fraternal? Outside friendship? Why was her father doing this?_

 _Why was this happening to…_

 _Her thoughts trailed off when Jaune stepped in front of her. He was too close and too looming to ignore. She didn't want to meet his eyes. She wanted to look anywhere else. But there was something in his irises, something she had not seen before._

 _A resolve that sent rattles down her spine._

 _"Ellie…"_

 _She couldn't muster the oxygen necessary for a verbal response. She could only part her lips like a slack jawed idiot._

 _He continued anyway._

 _"…I've never wanted to be your little brother."_

Ellie awoke, panting.

She was in bed with two of her sisters, Crystal and Alana. Alana was sleeping lightly to her right. Crystal, however, loomed over her, eyes wide and ears twitching, on the left.

She swallowed. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

Crystal nodded. "Yeah, but it wasn't too bad this time. You were muttering his name—but it didn't sound like an awful dream."

Ellie tried to remember what she had just dreamt about. The memory faded, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Ellie sat up.

She looked around the large sterile room. There wasn't much furniture, only another bed opposite theirs. In which Willow, Cece, Aren, Mist, and Paige had squeezed themselves.

Ellie hadn't said anything because, obviously her younger siblings needed her more. But she'd have loved to fall asleep with some arms wrapped around her.

A sob wracked her body as she remembered. As she remembered that white energy rip through her father. As she remembered him topple into the ocean. As she remembered that silver haired bastard turn around.

He had looked at her.

He had smiled.

Ellie tried to control her breathing and spasming body to no avail. She didn't calm until Crystal slid her arms around her shoulders, until she felt her sister's furry ears nuzzling his neck. Crystal's voice was resilient and strong. "We're going to survive this Ellie. All of us."

"What about Jaune? Do you think he's alive?"

"I..." Crystal hesitated. "I don't know, you were closest to him. Can you feel him? Is your other half out there? Is he coming for you?"

Ellie winced at that question.

It was one she'd been struggling with ever since they'd been locked in this room.

As close as she'd been…

As much as she had loved him…

There was no telepathic connection between them. There was no invisible bond that connected their hearts and minds. She didn't know if he was alive. She didn't know if he was hurt.

Was it because they weren't close enough? Was it because they'd never gone the final step?

Or was it because her life wasn't some stupid fairytale?

Ellie's gaze slipped towards a pale outline she could just barely make out on the floor. It had slid a little, as items on the floor of rolling ships often did. It had been the one item Ellie had managed to bring with her. At first, she had clutched it to her chest, as if it was her most precious possession.

A few hours later, the white cloth had lost its meaning, transforming into a symbol of her rage. She had thrown it on the ground, stamped on it—would probably have torn it apart if not for her mother's arms wrapping around her.

Ellie turned into her sister, returning her hug with all her might.

She was grateful to have been stopped. Any more and she would certainly have regretted it.

It was a terrible thing for a wedding dress to _never_ see its day…

Even worse for the dress to _die_ a few days before it should have.

 **Okay, remember, this was all supposed to be one giant chapter. This is all introduction. There's still one more chapter that part of this giant introduction. So if you feel like the story doesn't have much momentum yet...that's the reason why. Hopefully this isn't boring you though.**

 **Is this super late? Yes. Have I not even started the fic I'm supposed to be writing a chapter for this week? Yes.**

 **Will TSoV still be on time this week?**

 **A question for the ages.**

 **I'll do my damndest—that a word? My spellcheck doesn't seem to think so.**

 **No beta on this chapter. Not grammar or spelling or my usual content checker. The timing was just bad. So all mistakes, are mine. And I apologize for any oversights personally.**

 **Ugh, I'm going to sleep for a few hours now.**

 **-Vronsurd**

 **December 14** **th**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yo, I'm back. Hooray.**

 **So, first things first.**

 **I've got a P at reo n now. It's not a big deal. I'll keep writing regardless. But if you want me to update more often, have less downtime, or support my fanfiction/other fiction projects—that sort of stuff—you can check that out.**

 **If you're interested: "Pa t r eon dotcomforward-slash vronsurd"**

 **Now, getting to the important fic-oriented stuff.**

 **When I first posted the first chapter of this fic I explained that the first three chapters were basically supposed to be one 35,000 word mega-chapter, introducing the world and set up.**

 **This is still true.**

 **Obviously, chapter 3 has been delayed for…some time but it's still supposed to be the final stage in this fic's introduction. So, the purpose of this chapter was to handle the last bit of character/world building stuff and then dive straight into the premise of the first "arc."**

 **So, keep in mind, this isn't supposed to be an especially fast-paced action-filled chapter.**

 **But don't worry.**

 **Those are coming.**

 **Also.**

 **I've received a couple of PMs over the last few months about this fic. Most of the questions were, admittedly, concerning whether the story was dead. A few of them though, were world building related. Specifically, concerning powers in this AU.**

 **Semblances do function differently in this fic. And the semblances of the main cast—while they're still pulled from the original—have a range of subtle differences from the show.**

 **First, they can be unlocked three ways.**

 **Eating the extremely rare eye-opening candy.**

 **Training like crazy.**

 **Or they can be inherited.**

 **Some character's powers are the same, only, amped up to an extreme. Others are similar. And some are just something else entirely.**

 **Ren's is something else entirely.**

 **Ruby's is the same only amped.**

 **Yang's is the same only amped.**

 **Weiss's is similar-ish—but different.**

 **Nora's is similar-ish but different.**

 **Pyrrha's is the same.**

 **Blake's is something else entirely.**

 **All that will be explained as the story continues.**

 **Another thing to quickly touch on:**

 **Dust exists in this world and its used for all sorts of effects. It powers weapons and technology—all that jazz.**

 **But it isn't as large a factor in elemental abilities. Weiss doesn't need dust to generate ice. Nora doesn't need it to generate gigantic amounts of lightning. Of all the elements I'm altering for this AU, dust is certainly one of the least touched.**

 **Forgive any grammatical errors or small slips—I didn't have time to comb through it all for errors. And I don't have someone proofreading these.**

 **Thanx**

 **Without further ado…**

 **The Navigator**

 **Chapter 3**

Jaune huddled behind a frigid wall, shivering from some ungodly mixture of fear and the cold.

The temperature had already dropped several degrees from the storm.

But then Weiss created the massive iceberg on which they were currently standing. The freezing mass below further cooled the surrounding air.

It was as if they had magically left the devil's triangle and were now entering the Atlesian seas.

They weren't, of course. Given their speed, heading, and current location that was impossible.

But, god, if the dropping temperature didn't make it feel like they were approaching Atlas City, the capital of the Atlesian sea.

Jaune focused on two things.

Breathing.

And staying low.

The crack of—what had to be—bullets mauled the barrier behind him. He knew they weren't. But they had to be.

Regrets.

He had so many of them.

Why hadn't he said no?

Why hadn't he excused himself?

Because they had seemed so nice.

Sure, in the back of his mind, he was aware they were pirates—The Rose Pirates, they called themselves.

But were they really pirates? They had seemed so…friendly…and quiet…and peaceful.

"Jaune!" a feminine voice half-sung half-roared. It was unmistakably Nora. "C'mon Jaune! You can't hide forever! You too Renny!"

Jaune glanced at the dark-haired boy huddled beside him. His face gave little away about what he was feeling.

But it was obvious he wasn't exactly pleased.

"Where did Blake and Weiss go?" asked Jaune.

"Oh," replied Ren. "They left. They never participate in stuff like this. Weiss thinks its too childish and Blake would rather read a book."

"And what about you?" questioned Jaune. "Are you secretly loving this?"

Ren shook his head, offering Jaune the hint of a smile. "If I had a semblance that would help me get out of this you'd be on your own."

"You wouldn't take me with you?" asked Jaune, doing his best to emulate his youngest sister's pout.

It proved ineffective—and probably looked stupid on his grown-ass face.

"You're the new guy." Ren shrugged. "They'd probably give chase."

"Come on guys!" This time it was Yang's booming voice. "Stop being little girls. You've got thirty seconds before I kamikaze!"

"What does she want us to do?" muttered Jaune. He glanced upward, considering the wisdom in risking a peek over their ice barricade. He was dissuaded by the whistle of a snowball, streaking like a comet, just a few inches above his head.

"What are these teams?" Jaune grumbled.

"Well...in theory, with Blake and Weiss beside us, this would have been pretty even."

"I thought you said they never participate in stuff like this," said Jaune.

"They don't," replied Ren.

"Since she knows that, why didn't Ruby make the teams—" began Jaune.

Ren cut him off calmly. "I did say 'in theory' Jaune. The reality though, is that we were done for the moment Ruby stacked her team—like she always does. If it's a fight she gets Pyrrha, Yang, and Nora. If it's a word game she picks me, Blake, and Weiss." He shrugged. "The perks of being captain I suppose."

Jaune rolled his eyes, considering his options.

The barricade of ice behind which he and Ren hid, had been hastily created by Weiss before she stomped off to, as she put it, "catch some rays." It was clear that creating the barrier was a favor to the team she was abandoning and not an act of self-preservation.

Since every snowball that was flung at her as she walked away came to a gradual halt before it could make contact, eventually dropping a mere foot from her.

Jaune supposed the power to stop a projectile flying towards her face at one-hundred-miles-per-hour had something to do with her control over "particle oscillation."

He really wished Yang had let the heiress discuss her power a little more.

The ability to "freeze stuff" didn't quite cover it did it?

"It's okay Jaune." It was Pyrrha's voice this time. "Just get tagged a few times and the game will be over."

Jaune considered Pyrrha's offer.

Take a few snowballs to the face and the game would be over.

The woman had a point.

Nora's scream stopped him from accepting his fate. "What Pyrrha-Spear-ya meant to say, is come out cowards so we can dance on your corpses!"

Well.

If _that_ was the actual offer than perhaps it was in Jaune's best interest to stay where he was.

"Fifteen seconds!" yelled Yang.

Ah, right. Yang's impending kamikaze. How could he have forgotten about that?

So, soon, this barrier wouldn't even be safe.

He could surrender right?

Surely, they'd let him surrender?

Ruby had asked for his permission before the game begun—albeit, at the time, he was distracted. And she had asked with such fast-flowing words that, although he knew it was structured as a question, he had no idea what she'd said until after he agreed…

But she'd asked, none the less.

That was the point wasn't it?

So, of course, they'd let him change his mind now, right?

Jaune began to sneak his hand upwards, thinking he would wave a few times to get their attention before promptly surrendering.

Ren caught his wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna get their attention. So, I can surrender."

" _Surrender_?" repeated Ren questioningly, as if the concept itself was foreign to him. "You think they'll let us…"

Ren trailed off, shaking his head. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded square of paper. Jaune watched with open interest as the boy unfolded the sheet. He squinted at the messily scrawled words.

 _Pancakes._

 _Waffles._

And then, written in huge curvaceous bolded letters, _Syrup_.

Jaune gave the sanest Rose pirate a questioning look.

"My shopping list," Ren explained. "As written by Nora."

"O…kay…?" replied Jaune.

Ren peeked the paper over the edge of their barricade, exposing as much of the sheet as he could before his hand would be visible as well.

Almost instantly, there was a sound like a whip cracking and then Ren lowered the paper.

Jaune stared at the perfectly circular hole in Nora's list. The page wasn't bent. The page wasn't torn. The dead middle of the leaflet was simply…

Missing.

His stomach performed a series of complex acrobatics as he imagined the same thing happening to the palm of his hand.

"What the hell?"

"Ruby," said Ren, as if that was enough to answer Jaune's question.

Jaune made a face intended to let Ren know that it certainly wasn't.

"She has the best aim out of all of us," Ren continued. "At this range, she's practically perfect. And her semblance let's her speed up her throwing arm—which means she can throw it harder and faster than anyone else."

Jaune took the paper from Ren. He studied the perfectly round hole. "It's still just a snowball though…how…?"

"It's not just a snowball," said Ren. He gathered the white powder Ruby had ordered Weiss to produce. "Weiss claims making real snow is too much of a bother. To produce snow, she has to break down water into individual molecules and freeze it, then compound those frozen bits into flakes." He pressed the powder firmly, shaping it into a ball. "She claims making real snow is challenging enough to take significant brain power and easy enough to be boring—so instead she just makes sticky ice. Which is kind of like snow…if it melts a bit and then refreezes."

Jaune listened to Ren's explanation with unwavering interest. He couldn't help it.

Ren handed the ball to Jaune.

Goddam.

It was dense.

And solid.

And rocklike.

And Ruby was throwing them at, what must have been, two-hundred plus miles per hour.

"Are you kidding me?" Jaune hissed. "This thing could kill me."

"Kill you?" said Ren. His face said he thought Jaune was either exaggerating or joking.

"Are you saying it won't!?"

Ren considered him for a moment, and then his face shifted to one of understanding. "Oh my god. You don't have aura—do you?"

"I don't have a semblance. Why would I have aura?"

"Ready or not," cried Yang. "Here I come!"

"Wait!" Ren yelled. "Stop!"

The constant drum of snowballs against their barricade and the whistle of the projectiles flying overhead ceased.

Jaune wondered if Yang was still on her way to attack up close and personal or if she had stopped as well.

"Jaune doesn't have aura," continued Ren. "He could get seriously hurt."

"Oh my god!" Pyrrha's voice was the first to be heard from among their opponents. "I'm so sorry Jaune! I didn't even think about that!"

Jaune relaxed as soon as he heard Pyrrha's apology.

"Okay!" Ruby called out to them. "Jaune is off limits. Jaune, you go stand over by Weiss."

Jaune breathed a sigh of relief, remembering how the "snow" balls had lost all momentum before falling harmlessly next to the first-mate. He hadn't seen Weiss since the girl disappeared, but he knew which direction she had gone. He figured it'd be best to head that way.

He began to stand.

Ren stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Wait a moment Jaune. Let's leave together."

Leave together?

What? Why?

Jaune studied those serious magenta eyes.

Then he realized Ruby had only declared one of them off limits.

Jaune jerked away. "You want to use me as a shield!"

"We're on the same team Jaune." Ren's voice was different than it had been a few seconds earlier. Smoother. Like a stone, buffed and polished until it was practically a mirror. "Remember, we're blood-brothers. We'd never abandon one another. You know it'll be safe. They won't throw anything at you. That's why this was your idea…"

There was a part of Jaune's brain, deep inside him, that was screaming at him. It was angry. It was screaming with all it's might…but it was screaming with the voice of a mouse. It was telling him that not a word this man said could be trusted. That every word that had just left his mouth was a lie. That he didn't know Ren Lie from Adam.

But that mouse voice was just so easy to ignore.

Especially when the rest of him was nodding along with everything Ren was saying.

He couldn't help it! The guy just made so much sense!

Somewhere in the back of his Jaune vaguely registered Ruby calling out to him, asking why he hadn't moved yet, but he ignored her.

He had to.

Ren's words were more important.

"Here's how I think we should do this," continued Ren. "Since they won't throw at you, I'll get behind you while we're still crouched, then we'll stand at the same time."

Jaune nodded. That was a good plan. He'd stand first and then Ren would use him as a shield and then an overenthusiastic Nora would throw a lightning charged snowball and…

The mouse in Jaune's head transformed into a lion. The voice could no longer be ignored.

If he stood next to Ren he would die.

No doubt about it.

In what universe was this a good idea?

Why would he ever think it was?

He gasped and jerked his head towards Ren. "Did you just use your Icky-Tricky Devil's Tongue ability on me!?"

"You broke out of it?" replied Ren, looking momentarily confused. Then his face took on a look of understanding. "Wait, you don't actually think they'll kill you, do you?"

Jaune shrugged.

"I apologize, I didn't realize you were legitimately terrified."

"W-well." Jaune cleared his throat. Something in him bristled at the use of that word. "I wouldn't say I was…'terrified'."

"Really? But there aren't many sensations that will free one from my ability. Fear for one's life is the most common."

"Oh," Jaune replied dumbly.

There were a few seconds of silence between them.

Ren broke the quiet. "I am sorry for using my ability on you Jaune. We all tend to do it to one another and I just…well, perhaps I felt too comfortable considering the rather brief time we have known one another. I assure you I had no malicious intent. I know we're pirates Jaune. But you have nothing to fear from us."

Jaune stared at Ren. Ren met his eyes. Jaune had a feeling that was more words than Ren usually strung together—for anyone.

He began to smile.

"Yeah _Jaune_. Nothing to fear from us!"

Jaune and Ren looked up.

It was Nora.

She was standing on top of their barrier, staring down at them with a malevolent smile. A "snow" ball the size of a small boulder rested in her arms.

The two boys screamed at the exact same moment.

Jaune's terrified cry was a little higher.

But only a little.

Of course, that didn't mean much.

Since both were pretty damn high.

Jaune's insides liquified as his entire world shifted. One moment he was staring at his doom and the next he was somewhere else entirely, surrounded by red petals and a rosy scent. He looked down a bit. There was Ruby, child-captain of a dangerous pirate crew and probably capable of killing him fifty different ways.

Still, between her height, her hat, and her cape… Jaune couldn't help but think the girl looked cute.

"Hey Jaune," said Ruby. "I heard Ren saying you were scared of us?"

"No, I…" Jaune trailed off when he realized Ren was still screaming. He peered over Ruby, which wasn't difficult given how short the girl was.

Ren had somehow managed to avoid having his skull caved-in and put some distance between he and his insane friend. Jaune watched the dark-haired boy run, Nora in close pursuit.

Now that he felt safer, he had a bit more perspective. Jaune could see that Nora's "snow" ball wasn't even made from Weiss's super-dense snow-like substance, rather, it was just a massive hunk of ice, seemingly torn from the ground.

Ren moved as if his life depended on keeping one foot in front of the other.

Perhaps it did.

Nora followed him with sadistic glee, shouting.

"Look Ren, it's our baby!"

Jaune watched Nora jump seven or eight feet into the air, effortlessly.

"Take our baby!"

She beamed her baby at Ren.

The child flew like a meteorite.

Ren dodged the forty-pound infant at the last possible moment. Nora's beloved projectile lodge several inches in the icy ground.

Jaune was distracted by Ruby's warm hands on his cheeks. She redirected his gaze back down to her. "You don't have to be scared of any of us Jaune, okay?"

Jaune's eyes drifted upwards.

"Don't run Ren! You're a father now! Accept the responsibility!"

"Nora!" screamed Ren in a rather out-of-character voice as he doubled back towards the ship. Pyrrha's and Yang's voices joined the medley, Yang encouraging Nora to put a baby in her man and Pyrrha urging caution and for Nora to make use of a less deadly "snow" ball.

Ren tried to turn and reason with the girl.

The madwoman cackled as she continued her relentless pursuit. "Silence devil! Your tongue shall perform no trickery on me today!"

She beamed the massive ice chunk at him. He dodged deftly. This time the ice embedded in the side of the ship.

The damage to the vessel felt like a blow to Jaune's side. As if it were his ribs taking the brunt of Nora's violence.

There was something about watching how callously the crew treated their own ship that filled him with equal parts anger and agony.

Before he could dwell on either of those sensations Ruby turned his face back down towards her.

"Okay, you're allowed to be scared of Ren." She shuddered. "He's a monster. He'll use his power to make you eat vegetables."

Jaune had the passing thought that Ren wouldn't be able to use his power at all if Nora killed him. Before he could put the notion into words Ruby vanished, adding to the petals already scattered across the ground.

Jaune looked around, searching for the young captain to no avail. She must have gone back to the ship, or perhaps entered the igloo. Wherever she had gone, she had moved too fast for him to track. Perhaps in a less windy environment he could have followed the trail of crimson petals left behind by her semblance. But, as it was, they were at sea, and only half-an-hour had passed since that colossal storm. So, Ruby's petals were everywhere.

"You'll have to excuse her."

Jaune jumped.

He hadn't realized that he had company.

In fact, he hadn't really taken stock of his surroundings since Ruby practically teleported him away from Nora's ballistic wrath.

He glanced down. He regretted it almost instantly. All he saw was pale skin, piercing blue eyes, and more pale skin. Weiss was stretched out on what looked like a beach chair, ankles crossed, and gold-rimmed sunglasses at rest on her forehead.

Her skin was so pale, white, and flawless…

His brain required a second longer to register the blue bikini that covered the most troublesome parts of Weiss's anatomy.

Her legs were—

And her stomach was—

And her neck was—

Jaune stopped each of those rapid-fire thoughts with the militant discipline he had developed to keep himself from invoking Ellie's wrath.

Ellie Arc wasn't the type of girl to accept excuses like "I'm a guy. I can't help it" or "my eyes may wander but my heart belongs to you."

Hell, the girl would likely suggest that being a guy and having eyes were both problems she could remedy.

With a force of will developed only after years of practice, Jaune tore his gaze away from the girl's angelic body and met her sapphire gaze. Jaune noticed the girl had raised an eyebrow towards him. Did she expect him to respond to her earlier statement? Or had she just been waiting for him to look her in the eye—completely aware of the few seconds he had spent ogling her?

"Aren't you cold?" He blurted out the question. He couldn't help it. He needed to say something to alleviate the awkwardness between them. This iceberg was frigid, and her bikini was clearly meant for warmer places, so it was the first question that came to mind.

"I don't get cold," replied Weiss, motioning to her outfit. "Obviously."

"Is that because of your semblance…?" Jaune continued, blindly grasping for topics. "Or were you born that way?"

"Both," replied Weiss.

Ah.

A one-word answer.

He had hoped that would buy him a bit more time than—what?—one-quarter-second?

Jaune glanced upwards, hoping to remove himself of the temptation to allow his eyes to follow Weiss's slender curvature to its natural conclusion. From what he had seen, she was built similarly to Ellie, imbued with a graceful sort of beauty. Ellie had a bit more muscle and wire. But the likeness was still striking.

When he spotted the gray murky sky he immediately formulated his next question.

"You said you were going to catch some rays, but the sun's not out."

"Look at my skin Jaune…"

Jaune didn't want to look at her skin.

Scratch that, he did.

But he sure as hell wasn't going to.

"If I wish to tan, I must do so gradually—very, gradually."

"Oh," said Jaune, gathering the courage to meet Weiss's gaze again. In the short time he had looked away she had shifted down her rather unnecessary sunglasses.

Worrisome. If he couldn't see her eyes, how was he supposed to know if she was watching him stare at her?

"Otherwise you'll burn?"

"Instantly," confirmed Weiss. "Anyway, as I was saying. You'll have to forgive Ruby. She only started that snowball fight because she thought it would cheer you up after you told us your story."

Jaune thought back to the young captain's sudden game declaration.

It _had_ followed his lengthy explanation of how he wound up in the ocean—some details excluded of course.

And he _had_ been wearing a rather sad expression.

Had she really done all this just to cheer him up?

"Why'd she stack her team then?" asked Jaune.

"Well…" began Weiss. "She wanted to cheer you up _and_ kick your ass."

"Why?" asked Jaune, confused.

Weiss shrugged. "Ruby is sweet and kind and gentle and—occasionally—scary. But let it never be said that she's good with people. Her attention flits too quickly for that. One moment she was feeling sympathy for you and your family. Then she was thinking she should distract you from your pain. Then she was thinking about a snowball fight. And then she was thinking about how she would decimate the opposing team. By the time the game began she probably didn't even remember why she started it."

"Really?" said Jaune, intrigued by the captain's odd description.

"I believe it's a side-effect of her semblance. Her brain needs to be able to process the world at the speeds she's capable of. So, her mind moves faster and makes leaps in logic and promotes action over consideration. All good to keep in mind when dealing with her—nothing to take offense at or fear—at least not for you, since it won't be your problem. We'll find land soon enough. We'll focus on getting a new ship. Meanwhile, you'll be free to go."

Jaune nodded.

Freedom.

Freedom was good, sure.

But how, exactly, would he spend that freedom?

He was going after his family. He was going after the man who killed his father. That much was obvious.

But how?

With what resources?

If his only goal was vengeance, then it wouldn't really matter would it? He'd do everything in his power to put a bullet in the Silver-Pirate-Lord's head but probably die without even getting close to the legendary pirate.

From there he'd go to the afterlife knowing he'd done what he could.

But the only member of his family that Jaune knew was dead with any measure of certainty was Mathias. He couldn't afford to get himself killed when his sisters, mother, and…Ellie needed him. That wasn't an option.

He had to succeed here.

No matter what.

So…where did that leave him?

Jaune was snapped back into reality when Weiss added to her previous statement.

"Probably."

He glanced down at the girl's hidden eyes. "Sorry, I tuned out for a moment there. Probably what?"

"You'll _probably_ be free to go."

"Probably…?" repeated Jaune, the smallest hint of panic lacing his voice.

"Yeah, Ruby's already taking a liking to you. Let that keep going and she'll drag you into the crew one way or another."

"Me…a pirate?" said Jaune, more to himself than to Weiss.

The idea was absurd. He hated pirates. Sure, the Rose pirates hadn't set off the same red-flags most other pirate crews would have—but he still couldn't imagine himself as a pirate.

Of course, that reason for avoiding the Rose pirates fell flat compared to his other.

"I can't stay here Weiss. I told you guys what happened. I need to find my family."

"And do what…? Ask a pirate-lord to return their ill-gotten gains?"

Jaune fought the growl that was forming in his throat. He knew "ill-gotten gains" was probably an accurate description of how the Silver-Pirate-Lord viewed the women and children he captured but he still didn't like the phrase. It made his family sound like objects.

It reduced them in some microscopic way.

"I'll kill him and pry my family from his dead fingers if that's what I have to do."

"So," Weiss surmised. "You're ready and willing to pick a fight with one of—if not, _the_ —most powerful being on the four seas? No hesitation? No doubt?"

"Yes. No. And no."

Weiss exhaled, arching her back a little, stretching.

Jaune averted his eyes immediately.

"Keep talking like that Jaune, and you'll seal your fate."

"What does that mean?"

Weiss's smile was small but cocky. "Fifty Lien says you'll be a pirate in under a week."

Jaune rolled his eyes.

"Easiest fifty lien I'll ever make."

I*I*I

"Land ho!"

Jaune swallowed when he heard the excited cry.

It had been three days since he was welcomed aboard _The Ambling Rose_ and, since that first day, he'd done his best to stay out of the way.

The crew would hold meetings every night, discussing what they would do next. Jaune wasn't explicitly told _not_ to attend these meetings. In fact, he was fairly certain if he did attend no one would care.

But he didn't want to get wrapped up in any pirate schemes.

And he certainly didn't want to help them plan their next act of piracy.

So, he avoided those meetings entirely. And he did his best to keep from the crew members in the day-to-day as well.

Of course, he was unable remain a complete hermit, since the crew would seek him out for various reasons—even the less social members.

Jaune had a sneaking suspicion that it was orders from Ruby that were behind the attempts to engage him.

After all, a Blake didn't seem like the type to seek out a stranger for company.

Yet here he was, amid a conversation with the quiet beauty, as the ship approached the shore.

Part of Jaune wanted to break out of the discussion, to observe the island at which they were about to dock—but another part of him was rather reluctant. There were no major hubs directly outside this side of the triangle. Which meant they were likely approaching a small settlement island.

The kind pirates ate for breakfast.

He had grown rather comfortable with the Rose pirates over the last few days. They were so…normal. Sure, they were all semblance users who could kill him with the flick of a wrist, but they just didn't seem like the sort.

That said, they were pirates.

And that meant something.

Even if they didn't torture and kill castaways they still had to pillage and steal and threaten. There was no other way to exist as a pirate. No other source of income. No other way of life.

All this begged the question, what would happen when they made landfall?

Jaune doubted they would burn and raze the town. He doubted the streets would run red with the blood of women and children.

But they were still, at least, going to steal a boat, right? And probably force the vendors to hand over their wares? And requisition a healthy portion of the town's food supply?

Jaune didn't want to see the town they were approaching.

He hoped it was a scummy watering hole designed for pirates and the like.

Then he wouldn't feel so terrible.

But what if it was a quaint, idyllic village—as most settlements around these parts likely were?

"So, what do you think about that Jaune?"

Jaune tuned back into what Blake's voice, aware that he had missed the last minute or so of dialogue.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I _said_ ," began Blake, with just a hint of irritation in her tone. "The man who did those horrible things was a _faunus_."

"What horrible things?"

"Blowing up the government building!" replied Blake, more than a hint of irritation in her tone.

Blake's irate demeanor encouraged Jaune to give her a bit more of his attention.

"Oh, well that's terrible."

"Did you not hear what I said Jaune?"

"No, I got it. Some guy blew up the building with a bunch of people inside. That's terrible."

"Not _some guy_ Jaune. A _faunus_ activist."

Jaune raised an eyebrow at the explicit emphasis. "Do you have something against faunus Blake?"

"Do _you_ have something against _faunus_?"

"No, I don't. But it sounds like you do."

Blake scoffed, as if the very notion was impossible.

Jaune pressed on. "Maybe you don't think you do, but you keep saying _faunus_ as if it's a swear word."

"I was just testing you," replied Blake.

Jaune nodded.

"Oh, I believe you Blake. You were just testing me. Or at least you think you were. Not everyone's a racist consciously. But maybe it's time you look inside? Dig deep? Ask yourself, am I hateful?"

Blake worked her jaw around for nearly a minute.

Jaune hoped she was contemplating his heartfelt words. He noticed her bow twitch a bit as her eyes gradually narrowed into more and more of a glare.

That building anger just about proved it.

She was a racist.

Even if she was in the closet.

"You ready to see land vomit-boy?" asked Yang, as she slapped him on the back.

Jaune wished he had been paying a little more attention to his surroundings and had heard her coming. Now his back was in whatever state was one level down from broken.

Mangled, perhaps?

Jaune watched Blake stalk off.

"Whoa, you step on her tail V.B.?"

V.B.

It wasn't the worst nickname Jaune had ever endured.

But it wasn't the best either.

Jaune had hoped that the mass of the ship plus the iceberg beneath would stop him from getting ill.

And it had.

For a day.

But then his stomach evolved.

His seasickness had returned with a vengeance in the middle of his second day traveling with the Rose pirates, quickly earning him the less than creative moniker.

Vomit-boy.

Well…it was better than Pukas-Lukas.

That's what Crystal had come up with.

"I hope not…" said Jaune. After a moment's hesitation he continued in a low voice, "Do you guys not like faunus?"

Yang tilted her head to the side, confusion obvious. "What?"

Jaune motioned to Blake on the other side of the deck. "It's just…Blake sounded a little…and she seemed pretty comfortable sharing and—"

Blake glared at him.

Her angry eyes were enough to shut him up—even though he knew she'd need ears rivaling Crystal's to hear what he was saying.

Yang followed his gaze.

"No, no racists on _The Ambling Rose_ —except for Blake, Ruby made a special exception for her. The girl is as intolerant as they come. Won't even read a book if a faunus is the main character."

Jaune gasped. "That's horrible! Some of the best literature of the last fifty years has come from the faunus community! Hell, one of my sisters wrote a book about why Danielle Eel is the greatest writer in history."

This time it was Jaune's turn to glare.

Blake wasn't frowning at him anymore, but he didn't give a crap. He fixed her with his most disproving frown.

Next to him, Yang shook her head.

"Tell Blake that. God knows the rest of us try. She just…won't stop harping about human supremacy…and the superiority of brunettes…"

"The superiority of brunettes?" question Jaune.

"Yeah, hates blondes almost as much as she hates faunus."

Jaune could hardly believe what he was hearing. "I would never have guessed any of that at a glance. She seems so…"

"Nice?" filled in Yang.

Jaune nodded.

"Well, you know what they say. You never know what's lurking beneath the…bow."

"Bow?" repeated Jaune.

"Yang!" shouted Blake, stomping towards them.

"That's my cue," said Yang, disappearing into the quarters below, Blake hot on her trail.

Jaune wasn't sure what to make of that confusing conversation.

He walked to the ship's aft, climbing the steps. He found Pyrrha, Ruby, and Weiss surrounding the wheel looking out at the approaching land mass. He followed their gazes.

As he feared, it was a small island and a small town, a hamlet of sorts.

There were a few bigger buildings, a tavern, an inn, a church, probably that sort of thing. But most of the village appeared to be composed of cottages and cabins of various sizes. The town wasn't even large enough to have a government building, much less a Navy station.

Jaune was already feeling queasy from the motion of the iceberg boat. His nausea only grew as they approached the island.

"Jaune!" cheered Ruby.

"Hello Jaune," said Pyrrha.

Weiss acknowledge him with a nod.

"We found land already…" said Jaune, as conversationally as he could manage.

"Not bad without a map huh?" said Ruby.

Sure, he supposed that was true.

"So, what's the plan when you go ashore?"

"Get a new ship!" replied the captain, laughing.

"Oh," said Jaune, hating just how few of his questions that answered. "How?" This time he made sure to fix his eyes on Weiss. She seemed more like the 'how' type—compared to Ruby at least.

Instead of the explanation Jaune hoped for Weiss just shrugged.

"That's the captain's problem. Not the first-mate's."

Wow. That was a little cold. No wonder Yang called her Ice Queen.

Then again, was that any colder than her constant claim that she would make a far better captain than Ruby?

"Have I ever failed us matey?" asked Ruby, slinging an arm around the Ice Queen's shoulders.

Weiss's response was a snarl. "Don't call me that."

Pyrrha laughed. It was a pleasant sound. "Don't worry Jaune. This is our fourth ship. Ruby knows how to get us a new one. She practically makes them appear out of thin air."

"Really?" questioned Jaune, unsure if that was some sort of pirate slang for killing the crew and stealing a ship.

"It's true," said Weiss begrudgingly. "A town we docked at a few months ago _insisted_ we take their fastest ship as a gift."

Okay.

Now Jaune was sure they were speaking in pirate-shorthand.

'Insisted we take their fastest ship as a gift?'

That had to be code.

Maybe it meant they stole a ship in the dead of night, with zero casualties.

Or maybe it meant they stole a ship in the dead of night with a boatload of casualties.

Maybe it meant Ren convinced some poor merchant to hand over their boat.

Or maybe it meant Ruby took a scythe to the mayor's neck until the town ceded to her demands.

There was just no way of knowing for sure without asking.

Jaune swallowed.

"So, this ship was given to you all for free?"

"Yep," answered Ruby.

Weiss shot the girl a look that resulted in the captain giggling uncontrollably.

Jaune watched the girl writhe with laughter.

There was no doubt now.

If this ship was a gift it was from the Rose pirates to the Rose pirates—purchased at a one-hundred-percent discount.

He turned his attention back to the island, giving the land mass a more thorough inspection. It wasn't a huge place but it wasn't particularly small either.

A great portion of the isle was unsettled. It towered over the town, a lush mountain, ripe with vegetation.

The beach to the left of the town was pristine and practically untouched.

After a minute more of observation, Jaune followed Pyrrha down to the deck to help unload their stores.

He wasn't in the business of helping pirates. But these pirates had saved his life, fed him, and provided inarguably good company over the last few days…

So, it'd be rude to ignore the laboring pirates.

Between he, Pyrrha, Nora, and Yang it was a fast job.

Ren was busy in the ship's kitchen, cooking _The Ambling Rose Mark 4's_ last meal.

And Blake was nowhere to be seen.

They approached the settlement island, urged gently onwards by swells, wind, and current. It quickly became apparent that they wouldn't arrive at the coastal town itself but about a half mile to the east of it, on an empty shore.

Pyrrha explained that, usually, when the ship still had its iron anchor it was her job to guide the vessel to a port with her power of magnetism. Without their anchor, and since their ship was basically just a collection of wood destined for the bottom of the ocean, it made more sense to allow themselves to drift towards the shore—rather than muck up the town's port with a shipwreck.

After a quick lunch, Weiss began to disperse the iceberg upon which their ship rested, an icy mass that coincidentally, held their craft together.

The first-mate timed the act so that the last of the iceberg faded just as the ship had drawn as close to the sandy shore as was physically possible.

 _The Ambling Rose_ began to break apart after that.

Jaune assisted the rest of the crew offloading the supplies they had gathered on the deck. It was an exhausting process, sloshing through chest high water while holding heavy barrels and boxes above his head.

Ruby and Weiss cheered them on from land, perfectly dry. They had somehow managed to clear the forty-foot gap between their ship and the shore without setting foot in the water.

It was impressive.

In an irritating sort of way.

But, dear lord.

It felt good to be on land again.

He turned to Yang after hauling a particularly heavy crate to the beach.

"Where's Blake?"

Yang shrugged. "Maybe she's looking for faunus children to throw rocks at."

Jaune recoiled, glancing at the not-so-far-off town.

Wasn't this village about to go through enough?

He hoped the Rose Pirates' resident racist wasn't exacerbating these people's future misery.

I*I*I

Her…racist?

 _Her_ …racist!?

How the hell had that been the conclusion of their conversation?

And Yang!

She just had to stir the pot! Always stirring the pot!

Was it not possible for her blond friend to just let the damn pot be?

Nope.

Yang was the kind who thought water made for a boring boil, so she added kerosene.

Blake shook her head.

Later.

Later she could dwell on tearing the blonde terror a new one.

For now, she needed to focus on the task at hand.

Blake flitted from rooftop to rooftop with unusual covertness.

Unusual for the situation at least.

Sure, she was basically built for sneaking.

Her semblance had multiple parts, each seemingly given to her as an item in a stealth kit.

And her primary role in the crew was to scout ahead.

Which meant she often went into situations like a ghost—but only when they arrived at a city with a Navy base or bandits or pirates or some other potential threat. Not a tiny little settlement town like this.

She had blinked from the ship to the highest point in town, the church steeple. She required a moment to compose herself after the blink, fighting off a wave of lethargy.

Normally, from there, she'd drop to the busy streets below and mingle.

Only…

There were no busy streets below.

Every road was empty, and every door was closed.

Blake removed her bow, freeing her ears, and unleashing her full-range of hearing.

Most of the town was quiet.

There were noises coming from nearby homes, but those noises were muted, as if the inhabitants were taking great care to be quiet, to go unnoticed. The clink of dishes being set on tables, the creak of feet on a wooden floor, the pulse and throb of conversation—Blake heard them all, but at an unusual volume, as if the entire town was holding its collective breaths, hoping not to be seen.

There was also something missing. A noise that should have existed in the small village, even if it was quieter and more subdued.

What was it?

What expectation did her ears have that this city was failing to meet?

The answer should have been obvious.

With a little more thought she was sure she would figure it out.

But, for the moment, she needed to set that aside, focusing on her job.

Scouting.

There were only two sources of real noise in the town.

The first, and loudest, was a larger building. It appeared to be a tavern.

The second was an area down by the port—what appeared to be a small shipyard.

The tavern commanded Blake's interest immediately.

Between the sound of hammers on nails or drunken cheers, it was obvious which location would yield the most useful information.

Blake landed on the roof of the tavern with feline ease. The singing was clear now. It was a chanty she recognized.

There was a bit of clapping and stomping to give a sense of cadence, along with a cacophony of shouts and cheers. The most common of which was, "dance, dance!"

Blake crawled around the roof's perimeter, searching for a high window. She found one on the backside of the building. It was about five feet down—too low for her to simply lean over the edge—and twenty feet above the ground—too high for her to drop.

After a moment's consideration she laid down flat on her stomach and approached the edge.

She folded over it keeping her body flush to the wall above the window.

Then she kept going.

In an instant she was hanging in front of the window, suspended only by her feet on the roof's ledge, her body parallel to the wall.

Fully stretched out, she easily bridged the five-foot gap. She cupped the sides of her face to reduce the glare as she peered in the window.

Pirates.

It was an assumption, but a safe one. The crew was a motley group. Some swarthy, some pale, some dressed decently, some bare-chested. But there were a lot of them. The tavern was practically bursting at the seams. There were at least forty.

The buccaneers were downing the bar's alcohol as if every bottle was an oasis and life was a desert. The tavern-keep kept the food and drink coming as fast as she could—probably hoping to get them pass-out drunk as quickly as possible.

If that _was_ the plan, Blake hoped, for her sake, that she had an ocean's worth of liquor or some horse tranquilizers.

Because that's what it would take to put men like these asleep.

The pirates were no respecters of person or property. They broke everything they could get their hands on.

And the girls they had dancing around the room clearly weren't trained in the art. They were probably just the prettiest of the villagers, who'd been forced to become the day's entertainment—and probably the night's too.

No wonder it felt as if the entire town was holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

There were pirates among them.

It was an unfortunate but common situation.

Settlement towns like this one didn't have the population, location, or wealth to attract the attention of the Navy, at least not yet. Generally, there was a process that settlements had to undergo before they could grow into a city, capable of defending themselves from large-scale threats.

First, the town's trade had to boom.

It had to develop a specialization that put them on the map for merchants and trade-routes. That would result in a rapid boom in the town's economy, which would, in turn, attract the attention of the world government—for taxation purposes of course.

Taxation wasn't great—it was certainly taken for granted in well-established long-standing cities and kingdoms—but it afforded the area protection.

After all, when the tax dollars started rolling, a town became an investment.

And the world government protected its investments.

The sheer spending power of Menagerie was _one_ of two reasons faunus had a place on the four seas.

The other was Sienna Kahn.

Pirate lord.

And leader of an all faunus crew.

That was the other way settlements survived. They were claimed as part of a Pirate Lord's territory. As long as the island paid their tributes, the land was safe from all threat—aside from other Pirate Lords and the Navy.

No average pirate crew would make trouble at an island claimed by a Pirate Lord.

Not unless they had a death wish. Which, Blake supposed, a few did.

Pirates were especially wary of islands claimed by Sienna Kahn. The Faunus Pirate Lord defended her own with a viciousness only rivaled by the Silver Pirate Lord.

Blake winced when she watched one of the pirates slapped one of the dancer's rear. The girl cried out, startled, much to the amusement of the crew.

Blake's fingers found the groove just beneath the window. She tested the sturdiness of the slight ledge with a couple pushes and then she transferred her bodyweight to her hands.

She launched herself up and backwards, onto the tavern roof. She took off towards the edge of the town, feet barely brushing against each consecutive roof.

She was struck once again by the…wrongness of the area's soundscape. Something was missing, she just wasn't sure what.

Usually, she would dig a little deeper than this before reporting to her captain.

Normally, she would work a little harder to answer the important questions.

Questions like…

Who were they?

How large were their bounties?

What were their plans for this town?

That sort of stuff.

But today was different.

Blake lived for this. Lurking in the shadows. Discovering information. Undermining enemy efforts—all without her opponents ever knowing of her existence. Third to her friends and faunus rights, it was her passion, her purpose…

So, it wasn't laziness, fear, or distaste that compelled her to return.

Rather, it was dedication to her job.

It wasn't her job to acquire knowledge to satiate her own curiosity.

Her job was to relay critical information to her captain and crewmates when it was most useful.

The knowledge that there were pirates ahead was information Ruby needed now-not later.

Any one of the Rose pirates could wander into the town in the next ten or twenty minutes.

It wouldn't do to have them go into a potentially dangerous situation blind.

Sure, the pirates weren't prowling the streets, preying on newcomers. So there wasn't any immediate threat upon entry.

But they _were_ all in the tavern.

Which would be the first place Yang would visit.

Of course, Blake wasn't overly concerned about the blonde brawler.

If there was any one in their crew well-suited for a one-versus-an-entire-crew bar fight it was the Brawling Branwen.

Hell, Blake wasn't particularly concerned about any of her crewmates running into trouble. They had all proven themselves capable in a fight—no matter the odds.

It was just better to make sure no one got blindsided. Which meant delivering actionable intel now.

Also, Jaune was with them now, and he didn't have a semblance or aura. A fact that she would have to start accounting for regularly if Ruby had her way.

The Rose pirate captain had ignored the crew's pleas to add someone to the ship who was an actual sailor for…well…forever.

Ruby wasn't a fan of adding just anyone to her crew.

She needed to like the look and feel of them. And she also needed to spend enough time with them to _get_ the look and feel of them.

Jaune didn't seem like he'd be keen to join a pirate crew but…

If Ruby decided he was going to join the Rose pirates, then he might as well give up and accept his new position. Aside from Yang and, surprisingly enough, Weiss, the six invitations Ruby had extended to join her crew were each rejected.

Initially.

But six offers.

Six crew members.

The math was simple.

Ruby always got her man.

Still, accounting for Jaune as a priority to keep away from potentially life-threatening situations wasn't too big of an adjustment.

Since she'd already been thinking that way about Ren.

Yes, Ren had a semblance. But it was just so… non-offensive.

And he could fight too—really well actually…

But.

But?

Well, whatever.

Did she really need an excuse to feel more protective of one crew member than another?

Ren read actual books. The two of them could talk about philosophy and social issues and literature and just about everything else under the sun. He boiled tea, and cooked Tuna, and was happy to spend time in silent companionship…

Sure, he could defend himself.

But why should he have to?

Something about Ren getting hit or pushed or grabbed didn't sit right with her.

It was different from how she felt when she imagined the rest of her crewmates getting jumped by disgusting pirates.

Why?

Because she didn't like scum touching what was hers.

And Ren was…

Ren was…

Pause.

Blake arrived at the edge of the town. The weird turn her thoughts just took required some analysis.

But not now.

Now, was the time to focus on organizing what she knew. It wasn't much, but she needed to figure out how she would report it to Ruby.

As she reintroduced her ears to their binding, she considered her traveling options.

From atop this roof she had line of sight with the crow's nest of _The Ambling Rose_. So, she could cover the distance with a blink.

She shook her head.

Sure, it would save her some time, but in a given day, her first blink left her woozy, her second made her sleepy, and her third left her nauseous and exhausted.

She might need that second blink later.

So, she dropped off the roof, jogging towards the shore.

I*I*I

Ruby narrowed her eyes.

Jaune squirmed.

Why?

She wasn't sure.

New people always seemed to squirm when she stared at them intensely.

Was it because she was scary before you got to know her?

She hoped so.

It was about time people stopped treating her like a little kid and saw the truly fearsome pirate lurking just beneath the surface.

Still, Jaune looked less scared and more…

Uncomfortable.

She wondered if it had anything to do with the wide-eyed pout she had twisted her expression into?

It wasn't manipulation. She was born like this. The hours she had spent in front of the mirror perfecting the look were hardly even worth mentioning.

"W-well…I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me, but I think it's time I—"

Ruby cut him off.

It sounded like he was about to announce that he was leaving. She wasn't about to let that happen.

So, she saved him the effort.

"No problem Jaune! I'm always happy to help a friend!"

"Right," said Jaune. "Well…you guys didn't even know me when you pulled me out of the water, so you have my absolute gratitude. But I—"

"You feel like you owe us one?" interrupted Ruby again.

"N—yes! That wasn't…I mean, of course. I you guys saved my life so… I owe you."

Oh Jaune. He was too easy. Far too easy.

"So, what are you going to give me?" asked Ruby, keeping her eyes wide and her smile wider.

"What?" said Jaune, dumbly.

Ruby held up a hooked finger and covered her eye. "I am a pirate Jaune. I don't do anything for free. Sorry."

"Oh," replied Jaune.

Ruby suppressed a laugh as she watched him pat his pockets, as if he'd find some hidden treasure there.

Jaune cleared his throat when his search yielded its obvious results. "I don't really have anything."

"That's fine Jaune," said Ruby, patting his back. She paused, letting the silence stretch for a few seconds. "You can repay me with your body."

"What!?" replied Jaune stiffly.

" _What!?_ "

Ruby jumped when the voice erupted from over her shoulder.

She whirled, hand drifting to the collapsible scythe on her back.

She was already relaxed by the time she finished rotating, hands returning to her sides, having already recognized the voice.

"Blake!" she whined. "I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that!"

"I didn't," said Blake, immediately on the defensive. "I just walked up normally." She motioned to the footprints in the sand.

Ruby glanced at the footprints. They did seem to indicate that the faunus hadn't used any of her semblance abilities to sneak up on her. "Oh, my bad."

"So, what were you all talking about?"

Huh. That was weird. Blake didn't usually take much interest in other people's conversations. Did this mean she was finally coming out of her shell?

"I was telling Jaune he could pay us back with his body."

Blake's yellow eyes shifted to Jaune, studying him closely.

Ruby followed her gaze, wondering what she was looking at.

Jaune's squirming intensified noticeably. Ruby didn't think it was her fault this time.

She turned back to Blake. "So, is everything A-Okay?"

Blake shook her head, turning back to Ruby. "No. The town's basically dead. Everyone's indoors. There's a pretty big pirate crew at the tavern. They're not exactly friendly, considering how scared the town sounded. But it's not like they've burnt down any buildings or strung up corpses—nothing like that..."

"Yet," growled Jaune.

Ruby wasn't prepared for the sheer vehemence in his voice. Nor was Blake, by the look of her.

"So, best guess Blake, do you think they're monsters or suckaneers?"

Blake looked up with a huff.

Ruby knew Blake hated when she asked for her best guess, preferring to stick to the facts. But Blake's guesses were so accurate, it made no sense not to ask.

"What's a suckaneer?" asked Jaune.

"It's a type of pirate," explained Ruby. "Some pirates are bad but they aren't quite _evil_ ; they just suck. So we call them suckaneers. We deal with suckaneers differently than monsters."

"Oh."

Blake exhaled again loudly before speaking. "Honestly, I don't know. They've got some girls dancing for them at the tavern. They probably aren't there by choice. And I doubt they're paying for anything but…"

"That's just normal pirate stuff."

Blake nodded. "Although, something felt…off in the town. It was missing something. I don't know what it was, and I don't know if the pirates are responsible but…"

"Something bad is happening." Ruby finished.

Blake nodded.

"But you don't know what…?"

Blake shook her head.

"I'm curious now," said Ruby, without much hesitation. "Let's go ask somebody."

*I*I*

Why on Remnant was his luck so bad?

It was as if he'd unlocked his semblance, and that's what it was.

Bad, horrible, awful, the absolute worst, luck.

Running into the Silver Pirate Lord had been his first burst of misfortune.

Then there was him getting picked up by a pirate crew. Being picked up wasn't a misfortune—but by pirates?

Then there was this business.

The moment.

The millisecond.

The instant he was about to leave the Rose pirates, Blake appeared and informed them that the location for Jaune's daring escape was under pirate control?

What were the chances? What was he supposed to do now? Wander into town alone? Try to catch a ride at a port where only a pirate ship was

Jaune watched Ruby knock on the door of one of the first homes they had come across.

They had entered the city in a group of four, him, Ruby, Blake, and Ren.

Ruby called them the "least scary" of the crew.

Jaune couldn't help but agree.

Yang's personality was… _overwhelming_ , to say the least.

A generous way to describe Weiss was intimidating.

Pyrrha was kind as they come, but her brilliant red hair screamed Nikos—and anyone who had heard of that bloodthirsty tribe would rightfully be wary.

And of course, Nora was a lunatic.

Yes, these four were certainly least likely to scare off a stranger.

Well…

He glanced at Blake.

As long as that stranger wasn't a faunus.

An old weather-beaten man swung the door open, a snarl already painted across his lower lip. His leather wrinkles already creased into a deep frown.

The old man looked as if he might growl, until he took a long look at Ruby. At which point his expression was one of pure confusion. He glanced down the street to his left and right. "Who're you?"

"I'm Ruby! Can we come in?"

The man was clearly put off-balance by Ruby's simple and exuberant question. He was put even more off-balance when Ruby assumed the answer to her question was yes. Ren and Blake followed Ruby inside without blinking.

And since Jaune wasn't about to be left on the streets alone in a pirate possessed town, he followed as well.

After a few seconds of shocked stillness, the old man closed the door. The home was quaint. Wooden floors, wooden furniture, wooden carvings…the man certainly had a theme going.

"Excuse me!" said the old man loudly, his voice furious. "This is my home!"

"And it's lovely," assured Ren.

The old man leveled Ren with a glare that could melt boulders.

"Sorry," said Ruby, grabbing the man's attention. "I didn't catch your name."

Didn't catch his name when?

In-between breaking and entering into his home and harassing him?

"Lennard" replied the old man, proving himself weak to Ruby's charms.

"Well Lennard," Ruby began. "We're new here. Just washed ashore. Sort of shipwrecked. We know there are pirates in town. We were just wondering what their deal was?"

Lennard considered Ruby's question for a moment and then shrugged. "They're here for a boat."

Ruby lit up. "Interesting! So are—"

The room went instantly quiet when Blake suddenly tensed. "What was that?"

"What was what?" replied Jaune and Lennard at the same time.

"I heard…"

Suddenly Blake lurched forward, into the cottage kitchen.

"Stop!" cried Lennard.

But Blake would not be stopped.

With a flick of her wrist she upended the table at the center of the room. Two plates, two cups, and some silverware clattered on the floor.

She withdrew her weapon, extended her blade and carefully began to work it between the planks in the floor.

"You don't have the right! Stop it! Stop it!" Lennard was hysteric now, struggling to move past Ren, but his frail body was incapable of maneuvering around Ren's lone arm.

Jaune watched Blake remove one plat and then two. It was in between her removing the second and third that Jaune heard it.

A whimper. And the dry sobs of a child with no more tears to shed.

Jaune stepped forward at this point, drawn towards the hole Blake was making in the floor by the inexorable tug of a child crying softly. When he peered downward he was met by piercing-green watery eyes.

He was immediately confused.

Why was there a little girl underneath this man's floorboards? What the hell had they just walked into?

"Please!"

Jaune was distracted by the continuation of Lennard's desperate pleading.

"You can't take her! I'm begging you! Leave her, please!"

Blake's upper body disappeared into the hole for a few seconds. When she reappeared it was with a struggling child in her arms.

Jaune briefly wondered if the slaps and scratches the girl was inflicting on Blake's face hurt, but then he remembered that every single one of the Rose pirates had aura.

"Lennard," began Ruby, her voice had more of an edge than usual. "Want to explain why there's a girl under your floor?"

As it would turn out, Lennard's explanation was unnecessary, as the girl's screams added some immediate clarity to the situation.

"Don't let them take me grandpa! Don't let them take me like Danny!"

"Stop struggling Bella," said Lennard, the desperation in his voice growing. "You'll only make them angrier!"

He turned towards Jaune, perhaps assuming he was the captain?

"Please! You've already taken everything! Leave my granddaughter! You can have anything you want! Just please…please?"

Jaune was at a loss. He turned his attention to Blake. He watched a look of horror slip over Blake's usually unrevealing expression. Her pupils dilated, and her jaw clenched and unclenched rapidly. "You're family? But why was she kept under…Oh my god."

Blake gently set down Bella. The girl took off like a cannon ball, barreling into her grandfather's chest, sobbing as she clutched his shirt.

"Ruby, I just realized what felt so off about this town."

Ruby fixed her scout with questioning eyes.

"I couldn't hear them Ruby. Not anywhere."

"Who?" asked Ruby.

Blake patted the bow atop her head, as if reassuring herself that it was still there.

"Children, Ruby." Blake crossed her arms, seemingly cradling herself. "I couldn't hear any children."

 **Anddddddddddddd there it is!**

 **The final chapter of the first chapter of The Navigator.**

 **Hope you enjoyed.**

 **I got a Pa tre on now.**

 **If you're interested in supporting my then BAM:**

 **"Pa t r eon dotcomforward-slash vronsurd"**

 **Beta'd by: Mystery Beta**

 **Next update: Guitar Huntsman**

 **Beta Note: "Let them fight. The winner shall take the boy."**


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